


The Spring in Hades

by mozarteffect



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Bulma as Persephone is more like Poison Ivy okay thank you, Bulma takes no shit but we already knew that, Double heads up gods are assholes, F/M, Gen, Happy Ending, Heads up this isn't going to be suuuuper IC for a lot of parts, Inspired by Fanart, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Love Confessions, Love at First Sight, Mild Angst, Mirrored on Google Docs, Okay lads we made it to the sex all right there's sex in this, Patricide, Pining, Romance, Some Humor, The mythos and culture is played very fast and loose though, Vegeta is a little awkward, attempted child murder, because vegeta won't allow himself to have nice things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:08:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29322195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozarteffect/pseuds/mozarteffect
Summary: It was extremely unusual to see any sort of expression on the god's face, let alone him raising his eyebrows in surprise as he did when catching sight of an unusual line written in the wretch's record.Whis's fine script was familiar, the words however made little sense:"Offended the Spring Goddess; Cause of death: kiss."A Vegebul Hades/Persephone AU inspired by @amartbee's art on Twitter.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs & Son Goku, Bulma Briefs/Vegeta, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Son Goku & Vegeta (Dragon Ball)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 117





	1. The Incident

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amartbee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amartbee/gifts).



> Believe it or not this is actually Really Different for me and I'm still not sure what I'm doing, but I got super inspired by Bee's art (the pieces [here](https://twitter.com/amartbee/status/1358944374449651713?s=19) and [here](https://twitter.com/amartbee/status/1358822907934363650?s=19)) so I started this fic originally on Google Docs for her Patreon's Discord server!
> 
> Since these pieces are public now, I decided to mirror the fic on Ao3 too, it's not _finished_ but I'm working on it.
> 
> Again, this is very off the cuff and unusual for me as far as content and writing style goes, so I'm just winging it.

Many often assumed and told tales that the god of the underworld and judge of the dead, His Eminence Lord Vegeta, had drawn the short straw among the other gods. Mortals assumed he loathed being there, that he had no choice, that he resented his fellow gods for his lot in eternity.

They were all wrong, of course, Vegeta was there voluntarily and disliked the other gods because they irritated him. Their carefree revelry and hedonism, openly carousing with mortals (as Lord Hercule had done _multiple_ times), the lack of professionalism...he simply detested it. The rumor that he was somehow forcibly isolated came from his refusal to join them in their shirking of responsibilities.

Vegeta was too _busy_ sorting through the constant stream of dead and what their filing would be. He had some denizens that were under his employee, but none he would entrust with his filings—the fates forbid. Nappa and Raditz were idiots, Whis was busy himself with actually bringing the souls and Beerus...

Well, there was a reason he was the purveyor of sleep, gluttony, and general havoc (as cats were). 

Presently, the large purple feline was curled up on his pillows snoring away by Vegeta's desk while the underworld judge scanned the list with impassive eyes.

Vegeta, though lacking in height compared to other gods, was an imposing figure nonetheless whether he was sat atop his high desk or standing before some unlucky mortal. His seemingly-scarred skin, the shifting of darkness and shades of red throughout his form, and the curious almost fiery appearance of his pitch black hair kept him comfortably separate from anybody _knowing_ him. 

It was extremely unusual to see any sort of expression on the god's face, let alone him raising his eyebrows in surprise as he did when catching sight of an unusual line written in the wretch's record.

Whis's fine script was familiar, the words however made little sense: _Offended the Spring Goddess; Cause of death: kiss._

The goddess of springtime and floral abundance was a Delphic presence (or lack thereof) in the pantheon. Like Vegeta, she never participated in the invitations to revelry of other gods. Unlike Vegeta, she remained so obscure most did not even know her _name_. The mortals whispered about the woe that comes upon any person who would dare trespass upon the Blue Lady's territory, yet never spoke a name or set out any shrine to worship. No statues, no tapestries, no sonnets, no artistic impressions of her whatsoever existed. 

Mortals were, however, very careful and diligent about tending to plant life...unless they were imbeciles.

Much like the foolish mortal before him now, proudly standing as though he hadn't been killed in an obscure and absurd way. Vegeta could see after taking a glance over his record that the man was a proud king of one of the larger islands, quite the hero in his time, would go up to the highest level just on that.

Except...

"You offended the Spring Goddess..." Vegeta carefully enunciated, trying to put it all together (not attempting to hide his disdain and disbelief). "...And she kissed you to death."

_"I wanted the Blue Lady for my queen!"_ the wretch's voice echoed. _"But she refused to leave that wild, uncivilized forest!"_

"Ah, then you tried to carry her off," he concluded, rolling his eyes at the pointless (and detestable) activity of _carrying off_. "And she killed you. Rightfully so, it sounds like."

Excellent, then it was justification to set him at the nice but mediocre level rather than the great level. Offending a god ( _actually_ offending not just the usual pettiness other gods engaged in) enough to have them kill was quite the sin, after all; Vegeta was being downright _generous_ to just put the woe-begotten king at the level of other peasants. 

(Nobody ever said he had to be a totally impartial and _not_ judgmental god.)

"Off you go," he waved the shade away, turning in his seat to contemplate investigation of the mysterious death. Since a god was involved, he would have to see to it, just to be sure if the god wouldn't be mucking up any schedules or files by killing on a whim. 

He had to admit, part of him was somewhat anticipating being one of the few to see the mysterious Blue Lady.

However, he couldn't just rush into it and immediately go topside. While that would be tempting for brash godlings, Vegeta was more methodical about his investigations. For the moment, he left the line of dead as it was and exited the reception area to the halls. 

It was all too easy for him to slip away into the darkness, darkness and winding, thorny hallways accompanied by utter _silence_ was what Vegeta was accustomed to. It was the world he chose and preferred. Even his chambers, accented by dark, wine-colored wood and furniture carved from obsidian with red drapery and cushions was part of this dark existence.

Dark and...isolated.

Not that he minded the isolation, not at all. Vegeta wanted his privacy.

Yet...he thought as he sat heavily upon the end of his bed and summoned up the scrying pool from his symbol on the floor, there was something ironic about the way he was about to invade _another's_ privacy. He had every right to, he was a god—not just _any_ god, the judge of the dead! He was entitled to, surely.

_Yet_...there was a hesitance for just a moment before he commanded: "Show me when the Blue Lady killed that blowhard." There was a slight feeling of self-consciousness when he became aware of Whis and Beerus's presence along with him in the room, unusual to him as the two had been constant companions since his induction as underworld judge. Vegeta pushed it out of his head and concentrated on the dark waters as they shifted around and turned pearlescent. 

"I could just ask her myself, Lord Vegeta," Whis commented airily, his flippant tone the same as ever ( _yet_ Vegeta knew, secretly, how carefully he always chose his words, he had never _once_ slipped up). "I'm well-acquainted with the Lady, so—"

Equally the same as always, where Whis was careful and controlled Beerus was brash and blunt as he snarled: "Then you've _seen_ her! But _we_ haven't, give us a chance, Whis!"

The attendant tsked, regarding the feline god with half-lidded sardonic eyes, nonetheless putting his staff used for travel at rest behind him. "There's no need for dramatics, Lord Beerus," he stated.

Vegeta, ignoring their squabbling (just the same as it ever was), felt his breath catch for the briefest of moments when a woman appeared among the image of the deep forest that had materialized in the pool. Her pale, ethereal skin faintly glowed, seeming to shift colors between blues and greens complemented by the base ivory, showing plain as day that she was a god. She would have been entirely bare if not for the sheer cloth draped over her in imitation of the style often worn by mortal women, thorny vines of roses covered the rest of her. Indeed, plants seemed to cover her whole self, even to a carnivorous trap plant located on her shoulder (which snapped threateningly on occasion as he watched). 

_Ah,_ Vegeta thought, so _that_ was why the mortals called her _the Blue Lady_. Her wavy hair flowed and shifted between shades of blue, almost to the point that he would have taken her for a sea nymph if not for the knowledge of what she really was. Her luminescent blue eyes stared coldly at the mortal king standing before her, postulating about how only a glorious hero like him was worthy of divine beauty like her.

The Lady obviously disagreed as her lip curled in disgust.

"Hmph—Bulma often gets would-be suitors," Whis explained, his casual tone leaning into annoyance on behalf of his apparent acquaintance. "But they're usually other gods, not mortals."

"I don't believe this, Whis, you _knew her name_ , as well? This entire time?" Beerus groaned.

"Of course," he responded as though it was the most obvious conclusion and he was speaking to an idiot, "How else would we have our chats over tea?"

"Silence."

Vegeta's command had been so abrupt he felt the two stare at him in surprise before, appropriately, obeying. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so brusque with them, Beerus had every right to question what Whis was doing in his leisure time when it had been so secretive, but he couldn't bring himself to care. No, he had realized the Lady—Bulma—was about to speak.

_"I am not leaving my domain,"_ she spoke in a clipped manner, none of the flourish or bombast of other gods. _"You would do well to leave now before causing any damage, mortal."_

The mortal disagreed, Vegeta felt himself internally wince as the man went on about what an uncivilized people Bulma surrounded herself with, that she belonged in a city to be openly worshipped by his side as queen.

_"These_ uncivilized _people, as you call them, are under my protection,"_ she bluntly responded, _"They care for my domain and live in harmony with flora, unlike your so-called_ civilized _people. You will not speak of them in this vulgar manner, nor will I leave them."_

Vegeta got the hint, where the doomed man did not, that Bulma had chosen to isolate herself in a forest and was content where she was. He could understand that.

The man, however...

"Tuh! Such insolence!" Beerus sneered, speaking Vegeta's thoughts aloud for him as the king reached out and grabbed the Lady by the wrist to pull her into an embrace.

_"Stop it!"_ she protested, _"Stop this right now or you will pay!"_ Her eyes turned steely when he refused to let go and...she cupped his face with a false tenderness that only a predator would show. _"Very well...enjoy this gift from me,_ my King _."_

Vegeta cast away the image before he could see Bulma press her lips to the man's. He wasn't certain why it made him uncomfortable to witness that and justified to himself that it was overstepping a line that he had already trod on into the other god's privacy. "Justified," he concluded. "And she doesn't appear to do this unprovoked, so there's no concern there."

Whis glanced at him, the expression showing that he very well could have told Vegeta that himself if he had _asked_ , yet understanding that the underworld judge wanted to see for himself. There was the tiniest quirk of his lips into a smile that jabbed at Vegeta in the gut with _concern_ at what his attendant was possibly thinking.

However, as always, Whis remained secretive and turned away, commenting that he needed to get back to work. "Ah, but...Lord Vegeta, if you ever want to visit Lady Bulma...I'm sure she wouldn't mind, so long as you keep your hands to yourself."

He disappeared with a titter before Vegeta could retort with a right scolding at what _nonsense_ he spewed.

"Meh...that wasn't very exciting," Beerus sighed, scratching at his cheek. "I can see why she hides herself away, she's boring."

Boring was how Beerus described a lot of things that didn't involve food or sleep, something that he announced he was going back to doing now as he trudged off. Vegeta stayed there sat on the edge of his bed in silence, staring at the now dark scrying pool, thinking, wondering, should he...?

"Show me her," he said, tone even despite the odd anticipation tingling throughout his nerves. 


	2. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His Eminence decides enough is enough and decides to meet the Blue Lady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes yes yes the obligatory meeting chapter, again writing such a confident and forward Vegeta is very unusual for me!

It became a part of the routine for him.

Sort through the wretched deceased, maintain himself, go to the sleeping chambers.

Watch her for a couple of hours, then go to sleep. 

It was insane and he knew that his associates _knew_ what he was doing but wouldn't say anything. 

Yet...Vegeta just couldn't help himself. He didn't understand this draw, this need to check in on the Blue Lady, just to see what she was up to, just to watch her routine, how she interacted with other people.

There were a couple of things he noted in his time observing: Lady Bulma appeared to be on good terms with that over-exuberant clown of a sun god Kakarot (or _Goku_ as he insisted on since mortals called him that). It made sense, the sun and the spring being closely related even if not by lineage. A part of Vegeta, however, forgot for a moment that Kakarot was married to the goddess of the wild and thought perhaps he was Bulma's _consort._

He didn't know why, and he didn't know why the thought disgusted him; he forced himself to leave behind such a notion and remind himself that she frequently dodged Kakarot's attempt at his infamous bearhugs. 

_"Goku, I_ can't _, remember?"_ she would scold him. 

_"Aw...but...it can't kill me, I'm a god! Right?"_ he would whine back with a pout. _"It wasn't like this when—"_

Vegeta assumed Kakarot was about to say something in reference to when the two of them were godlings, before they truly grew into their power. Whatever it was, Bulma cut him off with a gentle flick to his nose and an affectionate look. _"I can't take that risk. It would break Chi-Chi's heart if something happened to you, and I certainly don't want to make the ferocious Ox Queen cry,"_ she said, her smile showing bittersweet edges. 

The aspect of gentle kindness was something that seized onto Vegeta's mind just as readily as her dangerous beauty. Like phases of the moon, the Blue Lady revealed different sides of herself every time he checked in.

(Once, Vegeta had checked in at a decidedly inopportune time of when she was bathing. He cast away the image with an embarrassed blush.)

Another god she appeared to be on good terms with, which admittedly surprised him, was Piccolo the god of the sea and his attendants. Her dryads and his river nymphs would prepare their meeting places (and her bathing places, Vegeta reminded himself again to stop reflecting on her bathing) as she expressed visible concern about "tainting" the environment. 

_"Your concern is noted but humorous,"_ Piccolo would say to her with a fanged smirk. _"The sea, the rivers, water as a whole is not so easily overpowered, if you recall."_

 _"Still, I would feel awful if the nymphs and the precious flora and fauna were harmed,"_ she sighed. Then she tilted her head at him and grinned: _"Oh, and I suppose you, my friend."_

The playful teasing was another aspect of her he kept in mind. Vegeta found himself wondering what conversations between them would be like, would she tease him, too? Would she give him that gentle smile? ...Would she threaten him?

(He didn't want to admit how much that idea excited him.)

"You know, my lord, if I didn't know any better I would think you're becoming a little infatuated with Lady Bulma," Whis commented one day. 

" _Infatuated_ , please, I'm not some hormonal godling," Vegeta snorted, ignoring that he constantly wondered if she had a consort and if his next check in on her would show...something. 

Whis hummed a short note of disbelief, canting his head to the side. "As you say...I am curious about something, however."

"And what would that be?" Vegeta skeptically asked, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the files he was sorting through in the line of the dead. 

"I suppose I'm wondering...would her poison be able to fell the god of the dead?"

Whis had vanished before Vegeta could properly snap around and scold him for his insolence.

He didn't want to admit, the idea had been in his head too, Whis's acknowledgement of it caused it to sprout into a fully-formed thought, into imagined scenarios. These imagined scenarios followed him into his restless dreams, dreams that would disprove his own claim that he wasn't a _hormonal godling_ if he spoke about them aloud. 

_That's it_. That was the last straw. Vegeta had to resolve this childish obsession once and for all. 

* * *

Whis was giving him an infuriatingly knowing look the next day. 

He had reason to, of course, Vegeta had never asked any of his attendants for a favor at any point, especially not regarding his own duties. Still, Vegeta wished to wring his neck when he smiled cheerfully and chirped: "Of course, Lord Vegeta, I would be happy to man the reception while you're conducting your investigations above!"

"I will be back shortly," he grunted back through gritted teeth, ignoring the stares of the curious shades. He pointedly turned on his heel to head off, stopping only when the attendant called to him again. "What?!" Vegeta snapped.

"I was just saying, Lady Bulma adores strawberries~"

It was only for the fact that he was already partially obscured in darkness that Vegeta allowed himself to express his shock visibly without being concerned with losing face in front of the shades. 

_She likes_ strawberries?! _So what! I'm not some lovestruck fool looking to_ court _her!_

* * *

Bulma, as she did once a week, was visiting her parents. It seemed a strange sort of irony that the decidedly inhospitable goddess of spring had been born from two of the kindest and most hospitable gods in the pantheon. Even her sister, the goddess of inspiration, seemed to have an easier time of her transition from godling to maturity. 

However, Bulma did not resent them at all. Quite the opposite, if Bulma had to name something she loved besides plants, it would certainly be her family. 

Despite that, it did frequently dismay Panchy how Bulma isolated herself, and she tried to convince her to be more social. 

"Mother. We've been over this," Bulma sighed, blowing a piece of hair out of her eyes. "The gods are shallow and mortals are...frail."

The venerable Lady Panchy, with her golden curls piled atop her head and tied back with laurels, was the envy of many who sought eternal beauty and youth. Her aura of warmth and light was everything her cold daughter was not, though Bulma was just as ( _even more so,_ Panchy insisted) beautiful. 

"Sweetie...you can't give up, there's definitely someone out there who will help you truly bloom!" she insisted, moving to lay her hand reassuringly onto her daughter's shoulder, only to frown with sadness when Bulma moved away. 

"Don't, Mother," Bulma warned. 

She couldn't care less about the disrespectful mortal she had turned into fertilizer for her plants a few days ago, but Bulma would have never forgiven herself if her poison did harm to her loved ones. 

Mercifully, Bulma didn't have to sit through another session of sad sighs and woeful looks from her mother as she talked about how Bulma needed to open up to people. Something struck her senses, something unfamiliar, dark...definitely divine. Some unknown god was in her domain? Bulma sprang to her feet, her leaves rustling with disturbed energy. "I have to go," she said, "There's a trespasser."

"Oh, dear, please be nicer to this one than the last one!"

Bulma, turned away, rolled her eyes. "I will...try, Mother," she lied before vanishing in a swirl of petals. 

Darkness was all she saw when she reappeared in her domain. While she was accustomed to the shade of the canopies in the forest, and the darkness of night, this sort of darkness...felt strangely _alive_. 

Yes, this was surely the divine presence she had sensed.

"Who is there?" she demanded. "Why are you trespassing?"

 _"Trespassing?"_ a deep, rich voice chuckled from the wall of darkness. _"I am only out for a walk in the woods and you accuse me? I'm hurt."_

Lady Bulma, goddess of spring and floral abundance, was no coward. She did not meekly hide herself and look up at people through batting eyelashes and simpering giggles. But the sound of the sickeningly sweet tone of mocking and the appearance of a man set her back a couple of steps as she clutched her chest, gaping at the unfamiliar god revealed when the veil of darkness dissipated. 

She recognized immediately why it frightened her so besides having never seen this god before, his cadence was that of a predator on the hunt (much like how she would for those who disrespected the forest). 

They stood at the same height, yet that was hardly a comfort for how powerful he looked with his scarred torso and built muscles. Though it was rude and lacked any sort of dignity, Bulma found herself looking over the intruder from the ground up, flushing with embarrassment at the realizations she came to. The only thing that preserved his modesty besides the shifting black and red of his skin was a cloth draped over his hips (if he _had_ modesty, anyway). His entire being looked to be sharp enough to get cut on just from perceiving him, from his solidly built body to his sharply angled face. Not to mention the piercing black eyes staring hard enough to make her feel like she was bare under his gaze. 

Abnormal. Not of the above world. Almost not even of the divine. Even his hair looked out of place, like a black flame faintly moving in a breeze that did not exist. Who _was_ this?

It occurred to Bulma that she could just _ask_ who he was a moment after thinking it, he was trespassing on _her_ domain after all, she shouldn't have been _afraid_. She had every right to be _infuriated_ by the audacity of this stranger's trespassing. "Blackguard, _who are you_?"

"And now I'm a blackguard?" he snorted, his infuriatingly handsome face upturning in a crooked grin, clearly mocking her. "That's not very nice."

"I will remind you, again, _you_ are the one who is trespassing!" Bulma hissed, her fear evaporating as she strode with full intention to give the man a piece of her mind _right then and there_. " _Nobody_ dares to enter my domain without permission!"

Usually, the glare of the Blue Lady (as mortals called her) could even intimidate fellow gods. This man was an exception, evidently, as his grin only widened, an unusual light like _enjoyment_ sparkling in his eyes. "How frightening. I suppose we're not going to have tea and chat like you do with my attendant?"

Again, Bulma was taken aback. Her brow furrowed, she examined him as if really seeing him for the first time. "Attendant...? You mean Whis?"

_Did that mean...?_

No, it couldn't be. Surely _this_ man wasn't His Eminence, he couldn't _possibly_ be Lord Vegeta of the underworld.

"Do you take me for a naive godling?" she half-laughed, shaking her head to hide her expression of mounting confusion. "Whis has told me Lord Vegeta _never_ leaves his domain by his own choice."

The man, supposedly Lord Vegeta, gave a careless shrug. "He's correct, I don't usually. I just so happened to have my eye caught by something...interesting up here."

 _Interesting?_ What interest would the god of the dead have in the above world? 

Was it...?

"Are you...here about the mortal I killed?" she asked, giving him a wary look. 

His devious smirk was her only answer. 

Unbeknownst to Bulma, while Vegeta wasn't there to judge or punish her for the death of the mortal, he _was_ examining her to make a decision.

Being in the above world wasn't unfamiliar to Vegeta, but it was taking all of his practiced composure to not make an utter fool of himself with the assault on his senses. The bright light, the scent of various flora, the sensation of Bulma's aura all around them. 

It was...intoxicating. 

Although, it did perturb him how doubtful she was about his identity. 

"Yes, that foolish mortal king, the one you kissed to death," he said, affecting an amused look. He could see her move like she was about to protest and raised his hand to stop her. "I already judged that his death was justified. I am not here to scold you like a child about killing that insect."

Bulma narrowed her eyes, that steely, threatening look that excited him so coming into her expression again. It was much preferable to the fear he detected earlier...and gave him an opening to set his curiosity to rest at last.

"I did find myself...curious, however, Lady Bulma."

"About...?"

The anticipation building in the pit of his stomach was uncharacteristic for the god of the underworld, so was the proposition he was about to make: "I wondered what it would be like if _I_ kissed you."

" _Kiss me_?" she asked incredulously, her wary expression becoming derisive. "Ha!" Bulma's head tilted up to give him a condescending look. "I'm _poisonous_ , I _can't_ kiss anybody!"

_Oh? Is that right, my lady?_

Vegeta stepped closer to her, feeling the impression of her warm body near his, he took Bulma's chin delicately in his hand, thumb gently stroking her lower lip as she gasped. 

_So soft...so warm..._

And sweet, he found, as he pressed his lips to hers. The sickly sweet poison that would kill lesser beings hit his tongue, a pleasant burn that he didn't want to end.

Yet, Vegeta forced himself to pull away with a languid pass of his tongue over his lips, savoring the fleeting taste. "Delicious~" he purred.

Her incredulous expression was almost as satisfying as the kiss itself, he confidently turned and swaggered away to return to his realm.

Well, there it was, that was it. Vegeta, in fact, _could_ kiss the spring goddess and not die from her poison.

That was enough to put to rest the curiosity that had overtaken him.

He was in such a good mood he didn't even yell at his moronic attendants when they stared at him on his return, reflecting on the pleasant burn and the fury of the goddess instead.

Vegeta's departure, however, left Bulma in a state of confusion and unfamiliar humiliation. Her pride was _injured_ by the man's invasion of her space and casual dismissal of her authority. 

But...

Her face flushed deeper, burning so hot she was surprised her plants didn't light aflame.

How was she to explain _this_ when she returned to her parents' domain? She didn't know...what could she even say? The feeling of...his body against hers, how strong he was despite the gentle grip he put on her. His lips on hers, the very brief flick of his tongue against hers before he pulled away.

That smug smile as he licked up the remains of her poison.

_"Delicious~"_

_Oh fates have mercy._

"Bulma, sweetie, are you okay?" Panchy inquired, noticing immediately that her daughter appeared out of sorts. 

"Uh," Bulma eloquently responded, banishing the image of the mysterious man. 

In the absence of a proper answer from Bulma, and the alarming motion she was going through of dumping spoonfuls of sugar while staring off into space, Panchy frowned. "Honey...? What happened with your visitor?"

Bulma, having created a monstrosity that consisted only of sugar and lukewarm tea, blinked. "Huh? ...Um...it was...Lord Vegeta. Supposedly."

"All right..." Panchy's eyes, the same luminescent blue as her daughter's, watched her shrewdly. "That _is_ unusual. Lord Vegeta doesn't leave his domain. But I don't see why it would lead to all of this...fluster."

She gulped down the abhorrent concoction she made to distract herself, grimacing at how sweet it was. 

(It didn't wash away the reminder of _his_ kiss.)

"Mother. He kissed me."

Acknowledging what happened made it real, at least that's what mortals often said. 

Acknowledging what happened in Bulma's reality made her mother squeal with delight and clap her hands. "And he _didn't_ die? How wonderful!" 

"No...he sure didn't..." her mumbled response didn't deter Panchy from gushing about what a lovely thing to have happened and it surely _must_ have meant something. "— _Mother_." Bulma snapped back out of her shocked state, glaring at Panchy. "Don't be ridiculous! What it _meant_ was that he's an arrogant ass on a power trip, he was _mocking_ me!"

He had to have been. 

"Even if he was, sweetie, why are you so flustered? Maybe a certain god's arrow struck you~"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Bulma protested, her red cheeks contradicting her tone. 

"Bulma, dear, you're flushed and weak in the knees—surely you know if you get like that around someone, it _must_ be—"

Bulma stood, fiercely balling up her fists and glaring. "—What it _means_ is that my body is _confused_. I can't usually _kiss anyone!_ Of course the first man that kisses me without dying would create this—this— _chaos!"_

Panchy didn't appear to be listening as she absentmindedly poured tea into an overflowing cup. "I wonder if he would be amenable to having a wedding here? Do you suppose he would be uncomfortable being on the upper level for a while?"

"Ugh, _Mother_. I'm not going to see him again! He won't have a reason to come around ever again!"

_Never. Never ever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I didn't establish it, some of the god roles as talked about by Bee and myself on Discord:
> 
> Mr. Satan/Hercule = Zeus. Yes really. No in this instance he's not the father of the gods, most of them are unrelated. Videl is one of his only godly offspring.
> 
> Piccolo = Poseidon
> 
> Goku = Apollo (get it. son. sun. mozart shut up)
> 
> Chi-Chi = kind of-sort-of Artemis? but again, obviously not related to Goku
> 
> Whis = sort of a mix between Hermes and Thanatos
> 
> Beerus = Beerus. no uh maybe mix between Dionysus and Hypnos
> 
> Raditz and Nappa = undefined roles, attendants of the underworld
> 
> Panchy = hospitality (so very much NOT like Demeter, she's her own thing)
> 
> Dr. Briefs = undefined (maybe guardian of abandoned animals?)
> 
> Tights = inspiration for poets, writers, and musicians


	3. The Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta decides maybe kissing and running in addition to voyeurism probably isn't the best idea after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is where I'm at currently, yeh!!
> 
> "mozart why is some language anachronistic"
> 
> because it's funny don't @ me
> 
> oh there's also a reference to wet dreams in here, and goku says "wiener"

_I don't have a reason to go back. Never. Ever._

It had been days, weeks since Vegeta went to visit Lady Bulma for the sake of putting his obsession to rest.

It didn't go as he had planned, even if it might have appeared so to the Lady herself. She had drawn the conclusion that he was an asshole on a power trip (well, he _was_ an asshole, but lots of gods were).

The conclusion she had come to was far preferable to what the reality of his feelings was. He had thought that testing his theory would once and for all rid him of the fascination, he thought afterwards the dreams would stop. The wandering thoughts would stop. The desire to just see her, maybe catch a glimpse of her genuine smile for as rare as it was. 

It became worse now that he knew what she tasted like. What little he consumed for sustenance tasted like nothing. His mind injected images of what _else_ he could sample from the Lady. Lewd images of her splayed out on the forest floor, exposed to him, panting, anticipating—

_"I wonder, are you poisonous here, too?"_ he heard himself say in the dream.

_"Mmhh—m-my lord..."_

The wretch's file he was sorting through crumpled under his clenched fists, his shoulders bunched up around his ears and Vegeta wished dearly he could simply lay his head down on his desk in defeat. 

It was Whis gently taking the files from him and literally picking up him to deposit him on the floor saying he needed a break that broke Vegeta out of his intrusive thoughts hell. 

"You have a visitor anyway, Lord Vegeta," Whis announced, already deftly rearranging everything Vegeta's anxiety had fouled up. 

"Oh no," Vegeta groaned.

 _Visitors_. That was even worse than his current dilemma. Worst still, he _knew_ who it was because only _one_ person ever visited him, and he never bothered to wait to be received personally because he would always burst in—

"Hi, Vegeta!" Kakarot's exuberant voice echoed into the room, alarming the wretches around them and bringing the quirk of an amused smile to Whis's face. Vegeta put his face in his hands as though it would hide him from the younger and far more cheerful god.

It didn't, it never did. 

"Kakarot. Why are you here? You're _the sun_ , your place is above ground," Vegeta wearily recited as he always did.

Just as predictably, Kakarot gave a careless shrug. "Sun's fine on its own! Just wanted to pop in and see how you're doin'!" 

He seemed to realize as he spoke that Vegeta was, in fact, on the floor and not at his desk. He slowly blinked, tilting his head like a confused dog. He cast a glance up to the desk where Whis continued working. Then back down to Vegeta. "I mean, it looks like you're on a break, too, 'Geta, soooo...?"

Vegeta growled, jumping to his feet and grabbing Kakarot by his wrist to pull him out of the receiving chamber into somewhere more private. The gardens were quiet enough, nobody ever went in there besides him and occasionally Beerus to nap in the trees. "One, _don't_ call me 'Geta," he enunciated pointedly, jabbing a finger into Kakarot's chest when he stopped them. "Two, I am not _on a break_ or shirking my duties, Whis is temporarily relieving me."

"...Becaaaause?" 

He ground his teeth in frustration, not entirely sure himself of what to say in response. He very well couldn't _admit_ that he had some bizarre obsession with a woman he had only directly spoken with once and watched like a creep the rest of the time. Kakarot wouldn't have seen their encounter anyway despite his role as the guardian of the sun, since the canopies would have blocked his sight. That was partly why he chose to meet directly in her domain, yet...

"None of your business," Vegeta answered. 

"Oh, okay." A pause, Kakarot scratched the back of his head. "—Hey! Before I forget, how do you know Lady Panchy?"

Vegeta almost choked. "...I happened to meet with her daughter recently. Why do you ask?"

"Well," Kakarot reached into his pocket, taking out a golden envelope and holding it out, "She wanted me t'give ya this. I don't really know what it's for, maybe she's having a party and inviting you? Sounds like fun, right?"

"I do not do _parties_ ," he growled, taking the envelope carefully nonetheless as though it were about to explode. 

"Still would be fun if you came to one!"

Vegeta waved him off, preemptively shutting down any further interrogation about _what_ he was doing above ground talking to one of Lady Panchy's daughters, not to mention _which_ daughter it was. 

"Okay, okay, fiiiine, I gotta run anyways—hey, I'm gonna go see Bulma on my way back, want me to say hi?"

 _What in blazes?!_ He felt his face heat up at the question all the way to his ears. "Why would—why would I want to say _hi_? We are not acquainted!"

"Oh, really? That's interesting...'cause I've never seen you turn _that_ color before over someone y'don't know."

Before Vegeta could properly scold Kakarot for his impudence, the man was gone in a blink, compounding upon his own frustration at what an absurd situation he had found his way into. 

"It's just a letter, it's not going to grow teeth and bite you," Nappa piped up later as they were gathered in the mess hall for another misbegotten attempt at getting the underworld judge to eat a proper meal. 

Vegeta brooded over the table staring down at the letter, which remained unopened, as though it _was_ about to spring up and attack. "Of course not."

Yet, he still didn't reach out to open it.

"I can read it if you want," Raditz offered, already reaching out to it, only to be surprised by Vegeta slapping his hand away.

"It was intended for _my eyes_ , imbecile!" he snapped, taking the envelope and holding it to his chest almost protectively. "If you ever attempt to do that again, I will rip out your eyes!"

"All right, all right, sheesh," Raditz sighed, scratching his head the same way as his idiot brother often did. 

It was just a letter, Nappa's words echoed in his head. It shouldn't have made him so...nervous about reading it. What could the Lady Panchy possibly want from him? Was she going to scold him for his actions?

Eventually, in the quiet of his room, Vegeta's anxiety was interrupted by the sound of a tearing envelope. With shaky hands, he pulled out the letter and read the flowing script:

_Hail, Lord Vegeta,_

_It's so nice to hear about your visit to my sweet Bulma! I'm so sorry for any prickliness she might have shown you, Bulma doesn't often get visitors and she is truly concerned about bringing undue harm._

_You can imagine how surprised and pleased I was, in that case, to hear that you weren't harmed! _

_Bulma is still a little miffed, but you must understand it's not something she's used to. I encourage you to visit her again and get to know her better, she could use more friends. It isn't made apparent, she's honestly very lonely. Do you get lonely, too, down in that dark underworld?_

_I wouldn't mind if you visited our domain, either. My husband and I adore visitors!_

_Hoping this finds you in good health,_

_Lady Panchy_

_P.S.: If you're concerned about whether or not we approve, fear not: we very much do._

Somehow it was both better and worse than what he was expecting.

  1. Lady Panchy knew about his encounter with Lady Bulma
  2. Lady Panchy had no issue with it and was encouraging Vegeta to continue to make contact with Lady Bulma
  3. Lady Panchy...approved of...what? He wasn't sure what, he might have an idea of what but thinking about it made his face burn so much he was surprised his hair didn't catch fire



"So, what're ya gonna do?" Kakarot asked him.

Automatically, Vegeta responded: "I suppose—"

But then he realized that Kakarot should _not_ have been there _in his room_.

"KAKAROT?!" Vegeta screamed, shooting up from his bed and backing away to see—yes—that _clown_ was casually floating _in his room_ on that _stupid golden cloud_ of his! "Don't you ever _knock_?!"

"Knock on what, Vegeta, I just teleported in?" Kakarot tilted his head in that annoying confused way again. "I don't see what the big deal is, it's not like you had your wiener out."

"Don't call it that!" he snarled, disgusted by the childish name for...something private. "Of course it's a big deal to _enter someone's chambers_ without their permission!"

"You know, Chi-Chi says the same thing, but, we're best friends anyways, and I've seen wieners before, so it's not a big deal."

"Again, _stop_ calling it that, and I am not your best friend. Stop butting into my business, Kakarot!"

"Okay, okay, I promise I'll stop talkin' about your wiener, but are you gonna go see Bulma?"

Torn between yelling at Kakarot some more about... _the word_ and fervent denial that he had any knowledge of Bulma, let alone wanting to see her, Vegeta sighed deeply. 

Kakarot, seeming to be surprised at the reaction, dropped down from his cloud to stand in front of him. "Hey, 'Geta? You can just go see her, it's okay. Me, Chi-Chi, an' Piccolo are the only ones who visit, I think she'd really like having more friends."

 _Friends_. Vegeta didn't have friends. Even besides Kakarot's absolute misunderstanding of the entire situation...he just didn't, it was how he preferred it. The warmth and light that Bulma brought, the thought of what it might be like to experience her as she really was instead of a solitary goddess of spring, that wasn't what he was meant for. 

So then, why did he want it as much as he did?

"...Very well. Kakarot?”

“Yeah?”

“Get me the stationary set. Then get the blazes out of my room.”

“Oh, okay!”

* * *

While it wasn't out of the ordinary for Bulma to see Goku in her domain, it was unusual to see him at the time of day he was presently there.

"Goku, don't you still have...sun god duties?" she asked, not quite scolding him since—well, that was his wife's job—yet skeptically perplexed.

Goku only smiled at her and held out an ash-colored envelope.

"It's for you," he said, "From Vegeta."

The underworld god's name took her aback, she hadn't thought of him...in at least a day, if not a couple of hours. How did Goku know that they had met? Did her mother blab?

Seeming to read her expression, Goku explained: "Vegeta's my buddy! He's not a bad guy once you get to know him, he just gets wrapped up in work all the time, y'know?"

"And...since when are you his courier?" 

She was surprised at how careful her tone was considering how much she wanted to scream at how, apparently, the fates wouldn't _allow_ her to forget about Vegeta. 

"I'm not, I just told him I was coming to see you, so he wrote this up and gave it to me like 'it's for her eyes only Kakarot shut up and never come into my room again!'" Goku scrunched up his face and pushed his bangs back while making a crude imitation of Lord Vegeta's gravelly voice. 

Crude though it was, it took Bulma by surprise and made her giggle. When she thought of it, it wasn't _so_ unusual to hear that Goku was on at least friendly terms with someone like that, from what she heard his brother Raditz was serving as an attendant down there as well. Not to mention, Goku had a sort of...draw to unfriendly people. Piccolo was a fine example, apparently Lord Vegeta was another. 

"Anyways, open that as soon as you can, Vegeta's really eager to hear from ya!" Goku's voice interrupted her thoughts.

Before Bulma could even voice that she didn't know what he meant, Goku was gone in the blink of an eye. "Curse him," she muttered, slightly crumpling the envelope in her hands before relaxing her grip on it. She supposed she couldn't put it off any longer, if Lord Vegeta was initiating communication again, maybe he was having just as hard of a time as her since their meeting. He did take a _little_ too much enjoyment out of kissing her.

Thinking of that annoyed her all over again. _Curse him!_ Bulma thought, she would get back at him should he have the misfortune to come across her again, that infuriatingly handsome bastard!

Right. The letter. 

"Very well, Lord Vegeta, what do you want...?" 

The very _red_ and fancy seal was lifted up, showing the plain, white parchment inside. She didn't want to admit to herself that she was nervous as Bulma unfolded the letter and read the straightforward, sharp script that was his handwriting.

_Lady Bulma,_

_I would be honored if you graced me with your presence at the Turtle House today. It is preferable if you come in mortal form, but I will not complain otherwise._

_A response is not necessary, I will meet you._

And it was signed without so much as a parting, only with his name.

She stared at the letter for a moment, read it over again, reached over and pinched herself to be sure she was actually reading this. 

Did the lord of the underworld just...ask her on a date...? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also by "the sun's fine on its own" goku means he passed off the duty to baby gohan
> 
> yes a toddler is driving the sun now


	4. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The judge of the dead and the goddess of spring have their "date."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be real things get a tiny bit spicy here but it's mostly a lot of talking and getting to know each other. 
> 
> Also side note a certain thing Vegeta says about her taste was inspired by a convo on twitter between Bee and [Mequetrefis](https://twitter.com/mqtrfs?s=21) (go follow her, she's cool).

Bulma rationalized to herself that even if the underworld god _did_ mean it as a date (but he didn't) and she had no interest (she really didn't), she still had to be polite and accept his invitation.

At the insistence of her dryads, Bulma decided to dress herself up. She had decided on a lilac chiton dress with a golden girdle at first until Chi-Chi's abrupt interference (and more insistence from the dryads) had her change into a significantly showier, dark spring green [ dress ](https://imgur.com/a/6RdOn4y). 

"Trust me, he'll _love_ this one," she said while she was helping arrange the outer layer. "Especially..." She gave a mischievous smile and tugged on the tear-drop cutout neckline. Bulma blushed at the blatant reference to her cleavage—surely he wouldn't like it or notice _that_ much, she was nearly nude in her true form (as was he). What difference did it make?!

The clothes felt strange on her (as did the sandals) yet she continued to remind herself that mortals found nudity in women obscene, she didn't want to cause a fuss when already trying to blend in. For the occasion she had decided to wear her hair long and curled in her mortal form and accented the gold vine-patterned trim of her dress with gold bracelets.

Despite going incognito as a mortal, however, Bulma would not travel as a mortal did. In her customary swirl of petals, Bulma appeared some distance away from Turtle House enough to believably walk up and be taken as a regular patron. 

Well...not _so_ regular, she did still receive interested looks from men as she entered the reception area of the tea shop. Bulma steadfastly ignored their hails and inquiries of _if she was alone_ , instead focusing on where to find Lord Vegeta. He said he would meet her, after all, so where was he?

 _"Chi-Chi, you know Lord Vegeta?"_ The conversation between herself and her dear friend before she left echoed in her head. _"Have you known him to...err...I guess I'm trying to ask if you've ever known any consorts of his? What do they say about him?"_

Not that she was interested in being Lord Vegeta's consort or thought he was interested in having her as his. 

Chi-Chi, the effortlessly beautiful and elegant goddess of the wild with her glossy black hair and short chiton, struck Bulma as being someone more appealing to the greater pantheon. It was a bizarre thought to be possessed by, but one that had struck since they matured from their godling stage. Chi-Chi was adventurous, dynamic, and very loyal—however, her heart only belonged to Goku, as it had for ages. Despite her secret thoughts, Chi-Chi agreed with Bulma that the greater pantheon was extremely shallow and would never try to embellish facts for their sake. She could unquestionably trust Chi-Chi to be a straight-shooter (besides her skill with a bow).

 _"Vegeta, first of all, is not the type,"_ Chi-Chi laughed, _"I have never seen him away from his desk in the years that I've known him. Goku claims that he sleeps and eats, but that's about all as far as leisure activity goes."_ She took time to help fix Bulma's hair and dress as much as she could without directly touching the spring goddess's skin while she spoke gently. _"His visit to you is out of the ordinary, to say the least. He's always been without a doubt dedicated to his duties first. He's stern and doesn't talk much, when he does he's usually telling us to get out and we don't belong there—which, okay, yes, he's right. But Goku still likes comin' to see him anyway!"_

 _"That doesn't really tell me much..."_ Bulma huffed in disappointment. _"When he visited with me, he was...strange. Not stern, more...how do I describe it...?"_ She was desperately trying to avoid saying seductive. _"He certainly didn't mince words or waste time with compliments and flirtations, I can say that much."_

_"Again, he's not the type. Vegeta is stern, but he's not cruel or disrespectful. I don't know what to make of him kissing you, Bulma, I'll admit that, but I don't think he was trying to mock you or show off his power."_

She stopped short, realizing she didn't need to _see_ Lord Vegeta to realize he was there when the impression of his dark aura pressed down on her. Bulma turned her head, seeing a tanned man casually sat cross-legged, with his elbow leaned on the table, cheek resting on his fist...

Eyes _definitely_ trained on her. 

There he was. 

_Of course he's wearing red and black_ , Bulma thought with an internal eyeroll. Vegeta's dark red chiton stopped short of his knees, as was common fashion for men. (She tried to force herself not to keep her gaze lingering on how the edges of his chiton were creeping up his very muscular legs.) The black chlamys he wore around his shoulders was trimmed with gold and clasped together with what she assumed was his emblem.

Alarming her immensely, when their eyes met a devilish smirk spread across his face, causing her heart to race a mile a minute. She needed to get herself under control, calm down, and...join him at the table. 

"Hail, Lord Vegeta," Bulma greeted cautiously, trying to be certain that no part of her would be touching him at the tiny table. 

"Vegeta," he corrected, gesturing to a pink and red drink already waiting on the table. "You are not an attendant or a mortal, it's only fair."

"How generous of you," she couldn't help sassing back. Her eyes cast to the drink, raising an eyebrow at it as though it was a live viper. "What's this?"

"Whis told me you enjoy strawberries," Vegeta answered easily. "I thought it would be an acceptable peace offering."

That was an odd thing to say, Bulma tilted her head at him curiously as she took the drink. Its pleasant coolness and fruity aroma _was_ rather appealing. "Peace offering, Vegeta? You're saying that as if we're at war."

"I'm not well-acquainted with regular conversation," he admitted with a shrug. "Outside of my attendants, I rarely speak to anyone. But even I understand that kissing someone without asking and then leaving is rather rude."

She tried not to choke on the sip she had already taken of the strawberry concoction, her eyes widened. What in the realms beyond could she even _say_ to that?! _Yes it's very rude you naughty boy?_ Ridiculous!

"...It is not often that men approach me and come away unharmed, that's true," Bulma carefully said. "They run or end up dead. But you...I can't even understand why you did what you did."

"Fair, I myself do not fully understand why I did it." He leaned on the table, tilted forward a little closer to her. "I was curious, yes, and I had been observing you for a period before that. I expected that I would not be affected by your poison, but I was not expecting to...enjoy it so much."

There went her blasted heart again, thudding loudly in her ears, her face burning up—enjoy it? He enjoyed it? He was _observing_ her? "Do you expect me to be flattered by that? That you've been _watching_ me? I should feel violated!"

"No, not at all, you have every right to be irritated and feel violated," Vegeta responded in a blunt, unashamed tone while shaking his head. "I was perturbed with myself too about my behavior, it's unseemly to skulk around watching a fellow god. Yet...I couldn't stop myself. I thought meeting with you in person and allaying my curiosity would put a stop to the fixation."

It was quite a lot to take in for Bulma, at the same time it was quite a lot for Vegeta to admit. When she walked up (of course he knew it was her right away) he had felt his breath catch, even as a mortal she was ethereally beautiful (even as a mortal he still felt her aura of light). Her hair being so long drew his attention much more than he was used to, finding himself wanted to twirl it between his fingers. Such a blatant show of interest, however, was for undignified mortals to do in public, not him.

Her lips were already a little stained by the strawberry drink he offered, his eyes drawn to their movement and thinking of how nice it would be to kiss her again. 

Vegeta silently gulped against a very dry throat. 

"It didn't," he said after a moment of silence. 

Oh, by the cruel fates, it didn't. He still thought of her day after day, her body pressed against his, the taste of her lips and venom, how everything had no taste since he sampled her. How he wanted so much more and for much longer. It was entirely possible, though Vegeta would end himself before admitting it, that he had fallen into that obscure state of "love at first sight."

But such a thing didn't happen to him. Or to gods with any _real_ sense at all. That was for foolish mortals and impulsive godlings. 

Besides, even if he was (which he wasn't), it didn't mean she felt the same, and he couldn't (would never) force such a thing onto Bulma. While he would be immensely flattered if she agreed to have him as her consort, there was no reason to bring that up or try to initiate such a thing.

After all...he didn't really know her, and she didn't know him. As much as Vegeta wanted to get to know Bulma, become closer, part of him still feared her not liking what she would find in him. 

He cast all of those concerns out of his mind.

"I would not be opposed to meeting like this more often, however, if you are amenable to it."

"My mother is ready to marry me off to you right now," Bulma stated, taking Vegeta by surprise.

"M-marry?" he stammered. "That's much too soon! And she very well didn't _ask_ what you thought about that, did she?"

He understood the Lady Panchy was...enthusiastic, but for pity's sake, Bulma was no longer subject to the rules of her parents' house!

Surprising him again (and creating an unusual flutter in his stomach) a smile found its way across Bulma's face for the first time since the conversation started. Then she giggled, "You sound more offended than I was by the notion."

"Wh-why wouldn't I?" Vegeta huffed, feeling his cheeks begin to burn (much to his horror). "I very well don't want to have someone unwillingly bound to me!"

The Lady mimed taking out something to write on and made a motion of marking something down. "All right then, more things I've learned about his Eminence today: he would detest the idea of being betrothed to an unwilling person."

He snorted at the motion, pretending to write against his own palm. "And I, in turn, have learned that Lady Bulma has a sense of humor. Or perhaps she just likes teasing me."

"His Eminence is easy to tease," she retorted with a wicked smirk that he wanted very much to kiss. 

"Is that a good thing? Shall we meet like this more often?"

She paused, regarding him with a solemn expression that worried Vegeta for a moment. Did he make an error? Was she offended?

"I would enjoy that," Bulma admitted after a moment. "But...not in disguise. This form I have is nothing like what it means to be around me, I don't want there to be a false impression."

Strange, was she trying to hint that she didn't want him to get any unrealistic thoughts about her? Specifically about her appearance? Perhaps it was part of the reason why no imagery of her as the Blue Lady existed in mortal spaces. While Vegeta didn't fully understand it (perhaps not yet?) he did understand having misgivings about the idea of a "true" self. There were quite a lot of things about what he regarded as his "true" self that he didn't care for very much. 

"It's fine by me," he said aloud rather than voicing anything overly personal. "Kakarot can see us from here anyway, and I don't want to listen to that clown chatter about friendship and other nonsense."

"He might already know regardless," Bulma mused, tracing her finger along the tear-drop cutout on her chest. "Chi-Chi insisted on this dress."

Though, intellectually, Vegeta realized how rude it was, he couldn't help but follow the movement. He snapped himself out of it immediately, scolding himself about _leering_ like some lewd old man. "It's...nice. It suits you."

Oh curse it, _it's nice?_ Really? Was that all he could manage? He had to bring this back under control.

"You're surprisingly shy, aren't you, Vegeta?" Bulma's voice interrupted his thoughts, bringing him back to reality where she was watching him with a lopsided smile. 

"N...no, not at all, as I have said, I'm simply unpracticed with speaking casually." Vegeta cleared his throat, straightening up with an official air. "In any case, I am fine with meeting in our proper forms going forward. I only wanted to test if you were willing to even come see me in the first place. Getting to see your interpretation of yourself as a mortal is simply a bonus."

Bulma rolled her eyes, expression dropping into a frown. "You're a cheeky one, aren't you?" 

His only reply was a careless shrug and a smirk. 

She didn't want to admit how alluring he really was to her, as she repeatedly told herself. While he internally tried to keep from making a fool of himself, Bulma in turn tried to keep herself from getting too enamored with the first _real_ male attention she had been getting. Lord Vegeta was shockingly progressive in thinking and certainly didn't come off as shallow. It made sense when she thought about it, why would the judge of the dead care about appearances? He had probably seen many different things in his existence, gods much flashier than her, mortals of various types. 

Yet, _she_ was the one that he had chosen to come up from his domain to see. _She_ was the one he initiated contact with and said he wanted to get to know better. 

Bulma distracted herself with her drink. She couldn't let herself fall for him just because he happened to be interested in a companionship. Just because...he was the first (only?) person she could be close to and touch without harming. He didn't seem frightened of her, either, but then again, he was the god of the underworld. Perhaps it was more surprising to _him_ that she had no fear.

 _Well...I_ am _afraid, but not of him..._

Afraid wasn't the right word. Nervous? Unsure? Bulma knew she was beautiful, yes, and many gods and mortals who happened to catch sight said so. She wasn't interested in people who only regarded the surface...and...

"Pomegranates," said Vegeta, abruptly cutting into her thoughts. 

"Excuse me?"

"I was trying to think of what your so-called poison reminded me of, why it tasted so sweet and intoxicating to me. It reminds me of pomegranates." Vegeta gestured with his head to the ground, obviously referring to his domain. "Pomegranate trees grow in my garden. I enjoy them, but..." There came that devilish smirk again. "You taste much better. I haven't even enjoyed ambrosia since our last meeting, let alone any other food."

Bulma's attention snapped to the table to hide her blush, though there really was no point—he assuredly _knew_ how much the flattery was embarrassing her. "Y-you say that you're unpracticed with conversation, and yet you're so flirtatious," she mumbled.

"Hmm? Are you shy, my lady?" he said knowingly, throwing her earlier comment back at her. "It's not simple flirtation, I am only speaking frankly. If it pleases you, however, I'm not complaining." He leaned forward again, all confidence. "And as long as we're being transparent: while I'm fine with meeting in our true forms from here on out, I'll admit that I would very much like to see you wearing red someday."

 _Like the pomegranates he enjoys so much, I suppose,_ she thought, clearing her throat to hopefully bring something neutral back into the conversation (AKA, something that would no longer embarrass her). "...I will think about it. I'm...surprised that you have a garden in the underworld. Are pomegranates the only things that grow there?"

His expression dropped into a frown, though he didn't look displeased or angry, more like...something heavy was weighing on his mind. A bad memory? Something panged at her heart about the look, though she couldn't fathom why. 

"That, and thorns," Vegeta finally answered, sounding like his thoughts were far and away from the present. "The garden was my mother's...the Queen of Night. Appropriately, night-blooming flowers used to thrive there." A small, nostalgic smile came to his countenance, only to fade out just as quickly. 

...Much to both their surprise, Bulma reached out and touched his hand.

"My apologies, Vegeta," she sincerely told him. "I won't pry about what happened, but I will apologize for bringing up something painful."

While her initiating contact was _wonderful_ in Vegeta's mind, he hated that it had to come with the pretense of pity. Thinking of his mother hurt, yes, but he was not in the business of making anybody feel _sorry_ for him. To distract her (and himself) from the admittance, he pulled her hand up and pressed his lips to her knuckles.

"I am not remotely offended, Bulma," he assured her. "The purpose of this meeting was getting to know each other, was it not?"

"I...I suppose..." Bulma looked away from him again, blushing, yet not tugging her hand back. Maybe...

"Did you want to leave?" he asked, something tightening within him (he assumed it was nervousness, but was unfamiliar with the emotion). "We can go back to your place. You would be more comfortable there."

Oh yes, she would be, and so would he as he did notice (though Bulma thought he didn't) the stares that they drew. Interested looks, licentious looks, nothing either of the gods wanted to deal with. 

He didn't want to admit the feelings of possessiveness that they riled in him, that was extremely unbecoming.

Thus, hand in hand, they left the Turtle House to return to Bulma's domain. 

Vegeta was surprised to find that her dryads didn't receive her in the same way as he expected the servants of gods to do. They happily greeted her and threw him curious looks, but didn't question her or offer sustenance. Then again, he noticed Bulma didn't seem to care for having a lot of fuss and flamboyancy in her domain. That might have been part of the reason he was so drawn to her over others. 

Although...speaking of others...

"If I may," he began when they seated themselves side by side under a tree. (He internally cheered at how, unlike before, she didn't seem to have an issue with making contact with him while sitting together now.) "How did you come to meet with Kakarot and Chi-Chi?"

" _That's_ the first question you ask?" Bulma laughed, leaning onto his shoulder with a teasing smile. She was definitely more comfortable in her own element. 

"I have others," Vegeta admitted, finally giving in to his impulsive thought of putting his arm around her shoulders to play with her hair. Though it was back in its shorter form, it remained as soft as he imagined it, the motion of it brought out the scent of flowers almost prompting him to hum with pleasure. "But you might become embarrassed by some of my more...personal ones."

She huffed, a light flush coloring her cheeks. "I swear...I already have plans to get you back for your teasing."

"Oh no," he affected a worried tone, pressing his free hand to his chest. "Not _plans_ , however will I defend myself against your _plants_?"

Then something happened that Vegeta (and Bulma herself) wasn't accustomed to: someone genuinely laughed in his presence. 

It was unusual that he even told a joke in the first place, such clownery was more suited to Kakarot, not _him_...but...it made her laugh. Seeing her smiling and laughing, seeing her relaxed at all around him, he was definitely content with that. 

"I can't believe you!" she gasped, "You are...you are definitely _not_ how Chi-Chi described!"

Vegeta did wonder if that was a good thing or a bad thing, he could imagine that Chi-Chi described him as _stern and straightforward_ , which he was. Flirtation and joking around was outside of the norm for him, but around Bulma it just...felt right. 

"Okay...okay...no more distractions," Bulma tried to catch her breath, aware that her dryads were watching with surprise from the bushes. Seeing the Lady in such a state, let alone with a man, was absolutely not the usual, but...she was having so much fun. Meetings like this where everything seemed to click into place didn't happen outside of the creative works of mortals, Bulma thought, and yet...

Vegeta had asked her about how she met Goku and Chi-Chi. All right. She cleared her throat, making herself comfortable in the one-armed embrace of the underworld judge, trying not to let herself become distracted by how nice it felt having someone touch her hair the way he was. 

(Her vines had begun wrapping around him in a mimicry of returning his affection. Not that she would acknowledge it.)

"I actually knew Chi-Chi first from when we were godlings," Bulma started to say. "Chi-Chi had no siblings and, while I had my sister, Tights was much older than me and already in her duties as a goddess. We grew close that way, and..."

Vegeta listened in rapt silence as she continued her story, from their small adventures as godlings to hearing the rumor of Lord Bardock and Lady Gine's youngest son making a reappearance and seeking him out. "I believe I've heard from Kakarot that he was raised by a mortal man, yes, he was the one who gave him that ridiculous name _Goku,_ " he said. "So then, you and Chi-Chi were the ones who found him afterwards?"

"Yes...he wasn't entirely happy to hear that he was a god in development, but I still maintain that it was better to hear it from us than his brother. Raditz has a way of coming in harshly and making everything sound worse than it actually is."

Vegeta snorted, a noise of agreement therein. Oh yes, Raditz certainly had a way with...words. Words that incited a completely unintended mood. It was why he generally left courier duties to Whis and Nappa. 

"We all grew up together after that, Chi-Chi and Goku got married, I..." Bulma paused, abruptly looking down at herself. 

He couldn't quite make out her expression since she was looking away from him, but he could either infer two things: she had feelings for...one of the couple herself and was unhappy with their marriage (unlikely, and where did _that_ come from?) or...

"When you developed from godling to goddess, that was when you became unable to touch without poisoning," Vegeta finished her hanging statement, nodding in understanding. 

It sounded lonely. It definitely confirmed why he felt a kinship immediately with the spring goddess. 

Bulma's answer was quiet, but agreed with his assessment. She didn't meet his eyes again for a long moment.

She missed it so much, she thought to herself while Vegeta waited for her to say something again. She missed being able to touch her loved ones without fear of harming them. Bulma never told a soul that she _had_ touched another god before, a young and charming one, he wanted to hold her hand, she wanted to kiss his cheek...

He reeled away from her, screaming that it burned and scratching at his own skin, running away. 

Leaving her alone. 

All alone. 

Only plants were safe to her, she internalized that thought from then on. He eventually came back and apologized for his departure, but unfortunately it seemed they could not continue with any meaningful courtship. She agreed and apologized herself, acting the part of an understanding and graceful goddess perfectly. Her heart tore to pieces on the inside. Thorny roses grew to remind her that she was untouchable, only something people like to _look_ at but would not be able to touch. If they really _knew_ her, they would find out how undesirable she truly _was._

Bulma despised internalizing such a toxic mentality, she knew it was irrational and people loved her despite not being able to touch her. She did not need validation for her beauty or her lovability. Yet, the creeping specter of her responsibilities and nature whispered to her, day and night, how out of control she was. She was responsible for everything and capable of _nothing_ all at once. 

Bulma's prolonged silence slightly alarmed Vegeta, as she wrestled with her internalized woes.

Well, _slightly_ alarmed in the same manner of "Lord Hercule only embellishes somewhat."

Had he made another misstep with her? Did he blow it? 

Caught between a moment of panic and wanting to run, Vegeta blurted out: "I have a younger brother."

She looked up at him, blinking in surprise. Good. She was distracted from her thoughts, although Vegeta didn't want to acknowledge that his own thoughts began to swirl around about Tarble and his mother. 

How long they had been gone. 

How much he missed them. 

"...Tights has a consort named Beets," Bulma continued the silently agreed upon distractions. 

Relieved, Vegeta scoffed with a roll of his eyes: "Pffuh, Beets. I know him. He's...not blessed with very much luck." 

He shifted around...or rather...he _tried_ to. 

Vegeta looked down, raising an eyebrow in surprise at how Bulma's vines had locked onto him. "Interesting," he said, "I had no idea you were so possessive, Lady Bulma." 

"Why must you always tease me!" she cried out in annoyance. 

" _Always_?" he chuckled. "You say that like we've known each other for ages." 

"You certainly _act_ familiar enough with me!" Bulma snapped, moving into his lap to straddle him. "When I think I have your motives figured out, you suddenly throw something else at me. I don't understand..." Her tone turned soft as she continued speaking, raising her hand and cupping his jaw. "You seem so at ease even though it's not your domain...do you like it here that much?" She felt him pull in a breath when she traced his lips with her thumb. "Do you like _me_ that much?"

It was...distracting, and a little difficult to answer when she was so...intimately close to him. Vegeta shuddered, eyes closing in pleasure at how...lovely it felt being touched. He needed to get a grip and clear his head before he did something rash. "I thought I've made it quite clear that I like you very much, Bulma," he responded, somehow managing to keep his tone in check, despite the flush on his cheeks. "However, anything we do moving forward will be entirely your choice, I will never force you to do anything you do not want."

As uncharacteristic it was for him to admit that he _liked_ anyone, let alone to their face and in plain words rather than actions, it felt right and necessary to make the boundaries clear with Bulma. 

Bulma didn't answer for a moment, tracing the line of his jaw up to his cheekbones, expression contemplative. The truth was, she liked him quite a bit, too. Actually getting to speak to him and initiate contact, like a real potential suitor, revealed much more than she ever expected to think about the underworld god. Yet, he was respecting her boundaries at the same time.

Silly man. He should have been worried about _his own_ boundaries. A mischievous smile lit up her features. "I never thought I would meet somebody that I can touch without harming them, Vegeta," Bulma said thoughtfully, the journey of her hand reaching up into his hair to stroke it. Much to her surprise, it was soft, the scent of pomegranates and cinnamon coming to her rather than sulfur like she would expect. "I drive people away, I hide myself, I can't stop rumors from spreading but I can be sure nobody ever approaches me. I can't stand the thought of hurting someone I care for, yet I...miss being able to touch people." 

Leaves began to sprout in Vegeta's hair as she combed her fingers through it, similar to how other gods wore laurels. The sight swelled her heart with unmistakable fondness.

"You may touch me," he reminded her softly. "As often as you want, however you want."

"You might want to rethink that, Vegeta," Bulma teased. "I won't want to stop."

Even she could feel the thudding of his heartbeat speeding up, appropriate as her own was skipping beats at what she was admitting. 

Vegeta cleared his throat, shifting again though he remained very immobile by her vines. "We still have to get to know each other before anything major...but...I want to kiss you again. For longer this time. I want you to see me as you would any other man, not the judge of the underworld or just 'the last resort' since you can have no other."

She shook her head, solemnly grasping his chin to pull his face in closer to hers. "I can't do that, Vegeta. You're not like any other man."

Disappointment wrenched at his heart for a brief and terrifying moment.

"But that's a good thing," she continued. "Other men only care about the fact that I'm beautiful. Other men just want to use me, they don't think about what I want. They lose interest when they realize they can't touch me." 

"That's their loss." 

"I suppose." Bulma shrugged dismissively, leaning into Vegeta to rest her forehead against his. "In any case, I can't see you as _any other man_ because you are not, but I will see you as a friend and suitor."

"I am honored to have the Blue Lady's consideration," Vegeta couldn't resist making a smartass comment with a smirk, though internally he felt several tiny explosions of emotion happening all at once. 

He would have said more purposefully to rile her up had it not been for her pressing her lips to his in a passionate kiss. The moan of pleasure he had been holding back the moment she began touching him erupted from his throat, the sweet burning taste of _her_ danced on his tongue, her fingers buried in his hair _tugged_ fiercely to throw his head back and break their kiss.

"You taste sweet, too, my lord," Bulma teased him.

A little, anyway, sweeter than she would have expected a denizen of the underworld to taste, but with a pleasant saltiness too. She pulled back, relinquishing the hold of her vines, a huff of amused laughter coming at seeing the look of disappointment on Vegeta's face. "Don't you have to get back to your domain?" she asked with a knowing grin. "Surely your attendants will wonder...?"

"They'll be fine," Vegeta snorted with a roll of his eyes. "Whis, at least, is competent."

Bulma slid off his lap, standing and waiting for him to follow. "Then, shall we have tea? I believe I still have some stories to pry out of you, don't I?" 

Vegeta stood as well (self-consciously trying to subtly adjust himself). "I would be honored, my lady."

* * *

"Interesting ornaments you've decided to don today, Lord Vegeta," Whis's amused lilt greeted Vegeta later when he returned.

He paused, patting at his hair and realizing the leaves Bulma had placed were still there. "I went for a walk in the woods again," he said flatly. "There are quite a lot of plants to get tangled up in."

"Oh yes," Whis agreed with exaggerated gesturing. "Many, _many_ interesting plants."

Turned away from his attendant, Vegeta allowed himself to smile. "Yes. _Very_ interesting plants."

She said she wanted to see him again tomorrow. 

It was certainly a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Mozart WAS THAT ~~THE BITE OF 87~~ YAMCHA YOU MEANT?"
> 
> nah. I mean y'all can think that if you want but my Official Decree is "no."
> 
> and yes I wasted time researching terms for greek dress Back In God Times then was like "oh fuck this I'll just link an image"


	5. The Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mistake is made, a break is called.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lads, we're reaching angsty territory, you might want to buckle up.

As time went on, though nothing changed in the lives (or deaths) of oblivious mortals, things were certainly changing for the Lord of the Underworld. Vegeta's "walks in the woods" as Whis called them increased from twice a week, to three, then to every day. Sometimes he would end up spending days (or nights, technically he couldn't tell the difference in the underworld) with Bulma, simply basking in the peace and joy he had only with her.

It was a harsh wake-up call to him that he was getting in a little too deep, then, when Raditz made some off-hand comment to Vegeta about "testing if he could sample her nectar" since he was a cthonic deity as well. Vegeta knew for a fact that Raditz wasn't the _same_ as him, and it wasn't as though crass notions like that were _unusual_ with gods—they frequently traded partners up in the pantheon—yet the overly-familiar reference to Bulma made him seethe with rage.

Mortals often talked about "becoming green with envy", Vegeta's envy, his anger, his protective rage showed as glowing yellow in his irises, sparks coming off of his hands while he grabbed Raditz by the throat.

 _"If you ever touch her,"_ he hissed, icy jets of air swirling in around them as his aura turned cold, _"It will be the **last** thing you ever do."_

He wasn't sure what kept him from actually killing Raditz, whether it was the reverb of his own voice shaking something within him, the cacophony of screaming dead in his skull, or seeing his own hands begin to blacken that forced him back into calm.

Whatever it was...Vegeta realized to his horror that he was going in too deep. He didn't _quite_ go over the deep end, since Raditz was still alive, but...he hadn't lost his cool like that in...years. Not since...

He needed to get a grip on himself. The obsession and helpless thrall he had been put under with Bulma was taking hold and making him act irresponsibly.

He wouldn't apologize to Raditz for how he acted, however. He simply told Whis to give Bulma the message that he would not be making any more visits until further notice.

"Until _what_ notice?" Whis asked him with a perturbed quirk of his brow. "Lord Vegeta, you're not making any sense. You can't just cut things off—"

"Did I give you permission to question me?" Vegeta curtly interjected, giving Whis a dark glare over the top of his papers. "Tell her I am no longer coming. That's it."

It tore him up to say it, to internalize that he _needed_ to stop seeing her before he did something rash and ended up hurting her in the process. But he couldn't lose control, not again, it was why he even isolated himself and never left his domain...it was a mistake to in the first place. He needed to stick with his duties as the judge of the dead. He needed to take control over the childish fancy of being infatuated with the spring goddess. He wasn't meant for such things.

* * *

"He's breaking up with me," Bulma said flatly while Whis poured the tea. "For what reason?"

"Not...breaking up, Lady Bulma," Whis tried to soothe her mounting anger. "He's simply saying that he needs a break."

"I've seen mortal men make that excuse before, they mean it to say they tire of their lovers and are discarding them." Though her tone was emotionless, many different things simmered and stewed within Bulma as she puzzled over what Vegeta was even thinking.

Things had been going fine, hadn't they? They were getting closer. A little more intimate, though...she had to admit, she was still hesitant about going _all_ the way with him. Was that why? She thought...he wasn't like that...

Bulma would not weep. Not over a man. Not over a man who wasn't related to her. Not over a man who apparently had no issue with dumping her like nothing.

It was what she told herself, anyway, despite her vision swimming as she concentrated on _not_ crying.

"That imbecile..." she hissed. "What's _wrong_ with him?"

Whis, who had remained silent while he allowed the Lady to deliberate, set the teapot down with a _thunk_ that somehow sounded annoyed.

"He is being a fool and is afraid," he brusquely stated, tone cold enough to make Bulma shudder.

She knew that tone. Though Whis rarely used it, it meant he was about to issue a threat or was genuinely upset by something. Her eyes hesitantly moved up to make contact with his, something like fear bubbled in her stomach at the sight of his impassive lavender eyes.

"Forgive me for speaking freely, my lady," Whis continued, not sounding apologetic at all. "I do not usually deal in the business of my lord unless he specifically orders me to. However, I will always state the facts: he is afraid and is taking a 'burn it all down' approach to control himself. He lost his temper with one of his attendants when they made a crude reference to you."

So, it was something someone else did, but Vegeta was blaming his feelings towards her as a problem. Bulma sighed, feeling a small headache coming on. Of course, if Vegeta wasn't the lord of the underworld, he would probably be the lord of self-sabotage instead. It was usually easy for him to hide since she had her own issues with opening up, so he thought. Bulma had noticed. Noted it. And now...

"He got jealous and angry, almost killed an attendant, and now he thinks not seeing me will magically make that stop," Bulma said. "I see. ...Ugh. That idiot. I want to march right down there myself and...and..."

Slap him? No, that was unnecessary. Maybe grab him by the shoulders and shake him while telling him that he's an idiot.

"I am not at liberty to state _why_ my lord fears his own temper, Bulma, that's for him to tell you," Whis pointed out. "But...he mightn't realize that I've been thinking of a solution to your little visitation problem for some time now. And I am well-aware of what gods and godlings can help with this." He tilted his head to her with a secretive smile. "Just...hypothetically, my lady. Would you be adverse to other gods fulfilling your seasonal role...?"

Bulma stared at him for a moment as though he was insane, then considered it for another moment. "You know what, Whis? I'm listening. Tell me about it..."

* * *

It was fine, it was fine, it was fine. He was fine.

Vegeta kept telling himself that over and over though his longing heart betrayed him with its incessant aching, almost _begging_ him to take back his own declaration.

Never, he never reversed a decision once made. He was a judge, after all. He did not make mistakes. He _couldn't_ make mistakes.

His pen tore through another record as he feverishly worked to distract himself. Then another. Then another. Finally he became so irritable he stood and yelled for Raditz to just _take_ the blasted wretch to their final resting place, he didn't care _where_ he put him.

"Not a very proper judge thing to do," Beerus commented from his place on his pillows. "You're losing your touch, Lord Vegeta."

The snide remark about breaking it off with Bulma being the _solution_ to his distraction was unspoken but certainly there in Beerus's half-lidded gaze.

Vegeta ignored him and ruthlessly quelled his emotions.

Though his hands shook he managed to not tear anymore records, by the time Whis had brought the next batch of souls Vegeta was sufficiently engrossed in his work.

"Lord Vegeta?" Whis's voice lilted into his attention. "You have a visitor."

"Tell Kakarot to go home, I'm busy," he scoffed, not taking his eyes off of the files.

"It's not Goku," Whis's voice took on an amused tone as his pale hand appeared in Vegeta's vision. " _I_ will take care of this. Go to the gardens and see your visitor."

The gardens? Kakarot didn't even know where the gardens _were_ , lending to the belief that his attendant was being honest about it not being the rambunctious sun god. He wanted to protest more had it not been for Whis grabbing his arm and _wrenching_ him out of his seat to take his place.

Vegeta cursed to himself, rubbing at where Whis had gripped, forgetting how strong the tall man was despite his seemingly willowy appearance.

Thus, the underworld judge made his way to the gardens, a familiar path to him (especially in recent times as he had been particularly missing Bulma) taken many times before. The smell of pomegranates and pure _silence_ greeted him as usual.

And...the feeling of light...?

He stopped short of the entrance, gaping at the sight of an ethereal woman wrapped in a red chiton gently running her hands along the deadened branches of thorns that had grown since the Queen of Night left. As her hands passed over, moonflowers blossomed with hesitance, as though they were conscious enough to be surprised to have grown there. Vegeta remembered those flowers, the white blossoms that his mother loved so much in addition to the spider lilies, jasmine, primrose, others he couldn't even name...and now...

"Bulma..." he croaked out, his voice as weak as he felt. "How...? Why are you...?"

Bulma turned to him and Vegeta could see now that the chiton she wore seemed a little loose in the chest, like it didn't belong to her. It didn't...?

"...Is that... _my_ chiton?"

Her mischievous smile was his only answer. She gracefully closed the distance between them and cupped his face in her hands. Vegeta should have turned her away, he should have said it was dangerous, yet he couldn't help leaning into her touch with a helpless sigh of relief.

"You said you wanted to see me in red, my lord," she teased him.

He suppressed a sob at how good it felt having her there with him, even in _his_ domain, like there really _was_ nothing that could stop them from being together. "I'm sorry..." Vegeta whispered, leaning into her further like it could fuse the two of them together so they would never part again. "I'm so sorry...I..."

"You were a fool, Whis and I agreed," Bulma said, running her fingers through his hair, holding him tenderly against her. "Because you lost your temper. So, the solemn judge of the underworld act is an act, is it?" She clicked her tongue, a scolding note therein. "Honestly...you could have told me that sooner instead of clamming up whenever we reached anything personal about you."

"I didn't..."

Didn't what? Mean to? Want her to know? Think?

Well, absolutely, he _didn't_ think of little else but hiding, but running away, because that was what he had done for ages now.

"I'm sorry..." he said again for lack of anything _to_ say to justify his actions. He only hoped that she, this brave, beautiful, confounding woman could forgive his foolishness. "I just...I didn't think...you would like seeing my real self..."

"I won't know unless I see it, Vegeta," she countered, pulling back to look at him. "But, for the record, _never_ make a decision for me again. I _don't_ like that."

"I...I can't show you it," Vegeta stammered, blushing with a mixture of shame and embarrassment at her. "If I...were to show that power, you would absolutely get hurt. But..."

"I know it's tied to what happened to your mother and brother," Bulma said gently, pulling his gaze back to her. "Vegeta, let's sit down and talk to each other, like we always do. Tell me all about it. I will be here with you even if I have to follow you down to your gloomy underworld."

Somehow, he didn't know how, she had pulled him to the base of the largest tree and sat them down. She laid him down with his head in her lap and stroked his hair, trying to soothe him as he stared up into the branches where the pomegranates, strangely, began to have flowers bloom along with them.

This was right. This was meant to happen.

On paper, it didn't seem like it was supposed to. Not in a million years. Yet...there he was, there _she_ was. There they were, together.

"I've been in love with you since I first laid eyes on you," Vegeta blurted out, surprised at himself for the blatant show of irrational emotion. "I wouldn't care about where I was as long as I could be with you. But..."

It was left hanging in the air, yet Bulma waited patiently.

After a time, he didn't know how long, she said: "I love you, too, Vegeta. Not since I first saw you, but for a while regardless. I find myself willing to do anything for you."

"That's obvious," he snorted, "Considering you're here now."

( _How_ was she there? He should have questioned, but now wasn't the time.)

...Bulma was willing to do that for him. She had the courage (where he didn't) to leave her comfort zone to be with him, to risk what was her very purpose in life just to be with him. It was easy enough to flitter above ground with her for him, yes, but it was nothing that made him deliberately uncomfortable.

Vegeta swallowed his anxiety and spoke:

"Bulma...the truth is that, I am not the first underworld judge. I am actually not that much older than you at all, by my calculation we were conceived as godlings around the same time. However, I matured into my role...sooner than I was supposed to."

He had to keep going, but stopped. He hadn't thought of this in years, his lost years that were supposed to be spent as a godling, stolen by responsibility.

"And what happened to the judge before?" Bulma prompted.

Vegeta froze, hands reaching up to grasp onto something—anything—of her to remind himself that she was _there_ with him.

"...The judge before was my father. I killed him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned lately it's actually really weird for me to write an implied progression of a relationship like this? 'Cause it kinda is. 
> 
> Then I remind myself that if I was writing this my usual way this conversation wouldn't be happening until like, chapter 13.
> 
> Anyway, have a good palentine's day everyone!


	6. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta reveals the history behind his pain, much to his total discomfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo...Bee dropped a [full-powered](https://twitter.com/amartbee/status/1361359627385008136?s=21)/death god/monster form for Vegeta
> 
> And that's where we are
> 
> Little a update, as a treat

It was quite the news to drop onto someone, no matter how involved emotionally they were. Vegeta felt abruptly uncomfortable just laying with his head in Bulma's lap, he craved closer contact and sat up, pulling her to him to trade their places. He held her close, burying his face in her shoulder, and just breathed in her scent.

They didn't speak for a long moment while Bulma reached back to comb her fingers through his hair. By the fates, he had no idea how such a good thing like her happened to him; he was shocked she didn't run the moment he admitted to killing his father.

He must have said something like that aloud as Bulma spoke: "You didn't do it for no reason, Vegeta. You were obviously provoked. Tell me about it from the beginning, I have time."

She sounded so sure of it, so soothing and warm, he almost wanted to weep at how good, how lovely life was with her. Things like this didn't happen, did they? It was childish fantasy...so he thought.

He couldn't just sit there, trying to keep himself breathing properly, pressing his nose to Bulma's shoulder. He pressed a kiss there and leaned back onto the tree, pulling her back to rest against his chest. "Back when I was a godling..." Vegeta began, his heart swelling at the feeling of Bulma shifting around to rest more comfortably against him. "I wasn't fully aware of my power. I am the judge of the underworld, yes, but it entails much more than that...underworld judges have...a certain form they take when invoking their full power. Sometimes it gets to be too much to bear, I needed an outlet for it, so I began seeking out and fighting against shades in different levels of the underworld."

Vegeta wasn't explaining the full picture, he knew, even she knew, yet she didn't call him out on it and allowed the brief summary to continue.

"...Actually," he snorted lightly, "It was how I met Kakarot. He was visiting Raditz and saw me fighting. He disguised himself as a shade to fight with me, but I realized right away what the clown was doing—I wouldn't have been able to—"

_Extract his soul from his body if he was a genuine shade._

Did he really want to tell the woman he loved beyond all measure that he was capable of such a thing?

(Oh, who was he kidding? She wasn't a fool, she probably already knew he could.)

"Vegeta, you sound like you would rather talk about naughty dreams you've had about me instead of this," Bulma said, grasping his chin to direct his gaze to her.

Vegeta blushed, but couldn't deny that yes—he very much would rather admit to her all of the lewd things he had thought of doing to her. Especially in his own domain, _especially_ on his otherwise-unused throne.

She smiled, a look of fondness on her face that spoke genuine love, all of which he had no idea what to do with except melt inside. "Later, though. You have to finish telling me this first, Vegeta."

Somehow, though he didn't know how, Vegeta managed to finish the set up to his story: he and Kakarot fought more often. They became...close (he would never admit they were friends) though even as a godling Kakarot was younger and quite a lot more annoying than him.

"My father demanded I stop fighting soon after, he said it was a waste of my power." His grip tightened on Bulma, reminding himself that he wasn't _there_ and was with her. He wasn't looking at his father's critical face, he wasn't hearing the insults, he wasn't hearing his parents arguing. "...But, because he did that, it became his own undoing. With no way to release any tension, I began to become more aggressive towards him—not entirely without reason, my father was a selfish man. Cruel. He treated my mother like garbage and...when my brother was born..."

He shuddered.

Bulma put her arms around his neck, nuzzling him encouragingly.

"...He said he was weak. Unsuitable. He tried to kill my brother."

Unbeknownst to him, Bulma felt and saw the change in Vegeta instantly as he reminisced. There was an...air about him that was threatening, cold...his eyes had begun to glow golden again, his hair started to flicker like a flame. He almost...

Bulma's soft palm against his face brought him back.

"But he didn't," she reminded him.

Vegeta took a breath, closed his eyes, leaned into the touch gratefully. "No...he didn't. My mother fled with Tarble. And I...snapped." He gulped down the mix of dry anxiety and bile that threatened to come. "I confronted him a final time and killed him...turns out the fool had stopped me from fighting because he was worried about my becoming more powerful than him. Whis told me later it was bound to happen anyway, but with no underworld judge...I ended up having to fill the role prematurely."

Trying to control his power, killing his father, maturing into a god sooner than most...he couldn't believe that he had told anybody that. Nobody really _knew_ the circumstances behind the previous judge's death, nobody besides Whis and Beerus...and now Bulma.

Yet...he didn't feel shame or sadness as he expected to. Vegeta only missed his mother, missed Tarble, hated his father for the cruelty he had shown to his own family. That was no proper way for a father and husband to treat his family...Vegeta knew that much. If...if he ever was in that role, he wouldn't...

He gulped.

"Thank you for telling me, Vegeta," Bulma said softly, holding his face in her hands as she looked at him with a tenderness he could have weeped at. "I'm sorry. That must have been very hard on you, especially dealing with it alone all this time. But...you did the right thing, anybody—god or mortal—doing things like that to their family is horrible." Her expression became stern next, flicking him on the nose. "Letting your past interfere with your present is where you messed up. I don't care what you've done, you're my Vegeta and that's that. Don't try to run away or hide from me again when you get scared, I'll still be with you."

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" Vegeta blurted out, realizing to his horror that the dam holding back his tears had begun to fall, his eyes blurring and becoming wet. He embraced her, pushing his nose into her hair to hide the tears.

She giggled, playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. "You were persistent and sincere, not to mention I am an extremely generous goddess in addition to being a beautiful one."

"To people who don't abuse plants," he mumbled with an amused smirk at her cheekiness. There was more to talk about, many things to talk about, many more moments they had to share and things they needed to express. For the time being, however, Vegeta felt exhausted just by opening up his heart this way to Bulma and he...wanted to sleep. He had never been so tired before, not once.

"Bulma...?" His own voice sounded unfamiliar to him with its quiet hesitance. "I...think I want to go to bed. Will you...stay with me?" He corrected himself immediately: "Just—just to sleep, I will not pressure you into doing anything else! I just...I don't want to let you go right now."

If she was there already...it was all right, wasn't it? Maybe?

The way she hesitated for a moment wrenched at his heart, he feared that she would say no or she had to go back.

But then she smiled at him, her radiance like the sun itself, and nodded.

"Yes. I'll stay with you, Vegeta."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some small notes on the concept of the godling versus god form:  
> -Gods, while they're fully aware of the mortal states of child, teen, adult, etc, don't define themselves that way. You're either a godling or a god/goddess  
> -The godling state is specifically a god/goddess that hasn't fully matured into their power, so technically one can be an adult but still considered a godling  
> -I estimate in that case that Vegeta matured into god stage around (what would be considered) his mid to late teens, which is considered pretty early for any godling to do
> 
> Anyway, hope everybody has a good week


	7. The Catharsis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulma gets a small tour of the underworld.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes yes, another short chapter, sorry lads I'm saving Big Changes (maaaybe upping the rating to explicit?) for another time, enjoy this for now.

While it was shocking to have learned that her beloved had killed his own father, of course Bulma wasn't afraid of him after hearing so. Bulma was no coward, and Vegeta needed to get that through his stubborn thick head.

But, for the moment, she languidly stretched and laid against him in his bed, grimacing a little at how strange cloth felt against her rather than the mossy beds of the forest. She didn't care, not so long as he was there with her. They dozed for a time, Vegeta occasionally shifted and mumbled in his sleep, snatches of conversations replaying, grumbles, once she heard her name.

What was he dreaming of, she wondered.

Vegeta, for his part, had never given mind to how comfortable his bed was or was not, though he was a little concerned that it might not be comfortable _enough_ for Bulma (and, he would never admit it, he wanted so terribly to leave a good impression on her about the underworld. Perhaps she would stay more permanently then...) she laid against him, dozing peacefully.

The genuine contentment was an altogether brand new feeling for him.

His dreams, however, told another story.

It could only be a dream, he concluded, as he was standing face to face with his brother. Vegeta knew it was Tarble, even if they were older, the boy had the same distinct flame-shape to his hair inherited from their father. Albeit his slanted a little to the left and the equally distinct widow's peak was hidden underneath locks of bangs, giving him more of a youthful innocent appearance in comparison to the sharp and unapproachable Vegeta.

 _"Boy?"_ Tarble's voice echoed, an amused look coming to his face. _"Brother...I'm no longer a godling."_

No...certainly by appearances he wasn't. Even though Tarble remained shorter than him, Vegeta could see the shifting silver color to his skin that spoke of ascending to godhood, the dark blue chiton encircled by a black chlamys, clasped with a moon-shaped emblem. Strange as Vegeta never thought himself very imaginative, what was he imagining his brother to be?

A ripple that felt like laughter from his brother came into the dream, Tarble cocked his head to the side. _"We can catch up later, Vegeta...Mother and I want to know all about_ her _. Your consort?"_

 _"She's not—not a consort, she's the goddess of spring. She's my Bulma,"_ Vegeta found himself arguing with the figment of his imagination. _"And what do you mean Mother wants to know? She's with you?"_

Tarble nodded, casting a glance over his shoulder. _"She's always with us, Vegeta, she is the Mother Night, after all."_

Hardly a comfort when—

 _"I know, you've been alone this entire time,"_ Tarble interrupted his irritable thoughts with a frown. _"Don't worry, we—"_

Something shook the environment they were in, Tarble stumbled and Vegeta stepped forward as if to catch him before he fell. He shouldn't have been so concerned, this was just a dream, just some cruel images his brain created.

 _"Don't worry? Don't worry? You're not making_ any _sense, Tarble—and what does this have to do with Bulma? Not that it's_ your _business, but I intend to—"_

 _"Make her your queen, yes yes, I know,"_ the former second prince of the underworld waved him off. _"But Vegeta, we can't talk anymore, you're waking u—"_

—"Vegeta? Vegeta?"

Bulma didn't _want_ to wake him up, exactly, it was only when she noticed him beginning to sweat and shift around in discomfort that something might have been off. True, it wasn't advisable to rouse someone in the middle of a nightmare, but the _pallor_ that came to his face distressed her more than common sense nagged.

He started awake with a cry, nearly knocking her off the bed with how suddenly he sat up, panting as though coming up from being drowned. Vegeta's eyes, lamp-like with how they glowed in the darkness of his room, rapidly shifted around trying to take in his surroundings.

They fell on her, splayed out in a very undignified way.

She could hear him clear his throat, a tone of embarrassment there at the violent show of emotion.

"Are you going to tell me what that was about, or shall I guess?" she huffed, sitting up to straighten herself out.

"I quite liked that image of you on your back," she heard him mumble, which she answered with a smack to the shoulder.

"Don't be coy!" Bulma snapped. "Are you all right or not?"

"I am constantly in a state of 'not all right at all', woman, I thought you knew that at this point," Vegeta sassed back.

"Well, _man_ ," she retorted, moving herself into his lap to glare at him face to face. "Familiar to you or not, I think I have the right to know when someone I'm sharing a bed with decides to nearly throw me out while having nightmares!"

He froze, hands automatically going to her waist in response, he looked down to the side with an expression of...she couldn't quite tell. Guilt? Anxiety? Whatever it was tugged at her heartstrings.

"I..." Vegeta said after a moment. "I'm sorry...are you hurt?" At the shake of her head 'no', he sighed. "It wasn't a nightmare...I was dreaming that I was speaking to my brother."

Sympathy ate at her heart when she saw the crestfallen look on his face at admitting to what he was dreaming of. Vegeta wouldn't say it, of course, but it was obvious he missed his family (sans his father). To have a dream about seeing his brother...

She pulled him to her, gently cradling his head against her chest, combing her fingers through his hair and leaving leaves there as usual for when they became close. "You don't have to tell me anything more, Vegeta."

"I would hardly be able to anyway at this rate," his muffled reply came, seeming very content to have a face full of her regardless. "Let's just forget about it and go back to sleep."

Evasion was also something she had become used to with her still-very mysterious paramour, nonetheless she allowed him to pull them back down to the bed and wrap her in a loving embrace.

Before she drifted off, Bulma heard him mumble her name into her shoulder again. "My Vegeta...my lord..." she whispered back to him.

* * *

"So tell me more about things you did as a godling," Bulma asked him later when they were—of all things—taking a tour of the throne room.

Vegeta, still not believing he was kicked out of his own desk ( _again!_ ) by Whis telling him to "be a good sport and show your ladyfriend around", blinked as though not hearing her correctly. Then he refocused back into reality where she was tracing her hands along one of the many bones that made up the underworld judge's throne.

"There isn't much to say," he replied. Really, what else was there? She didn't need to hear about the final fight he had against Kakarot where he almost lost control, or about—

He grimaced when her foot knocked against the remains of a broken statue, immediately rushing to her side when she yelped in surprise at the sensation.

"What in blazes is this?" she asked, waving off Vegeta before he did something embarrassing like inspect her to make sure she wasn't bleeding. "A statue?"

"Yes, Bulma, you'll find that outside of your little forest there are many statues," he snarked, contenting himself with holding her hand since she wouldn't allow him to tend to any wounds she might have had.

Bulma squinted, tilting her head to try and get a better idea of what she was looking at—the face _almost_ resembled Vegeta's, but something seemed...sharper. Crueler.

It also had a beard and an abundance of decorative odds and ends to show importance, nothing like Vegeta. She could see pieces of a very long chlamys styled as a cloak, an arm that had what looked to be a tattoo of bones on it, icicles...?

"My father," Vegeta explained, "In addition to being the underworld judge, he commanded the element of ice. Something about my grandfather's consort being from the mountains came up at one point."

That answered the question to why Vegeta became colder and colder when his anger peaked. Yet, she still didn't know why—"Such an ugly thing. Why have you left it here broken all this time?"

"That is my father's corpse," Vegeta bluntly answered. "After I killed him he became this."

"Oh. Ew." Bulma's nose wrinkled. "And you just left it here? That's morbid even for you, love."

He shrugged, wanting to move past the topic of his father entirely. "I've had no reason to use the throne r—"

His eyebrows shot up when he noticed Bulma kneeling down to the statue's level and running her hands across it. Was she showing reverence? It was hardly what he expected from her—

 _No, wait,_ if anyone saw Vegeta's expression then they would have thought something indeed was very wrong with the underworld judge. He didn't usually express astonishment, but seeing the moss and moonflowers now growing and _covering_ the statue of his father definitely shocked him to his core.

"There," Bulma stood and gave him a smug smile, "That's much better."

It was much better, it was miraculous, Vegeta would have said all of that if his jaw wasn't hanging open as he watched her move on from the newly-christened decor to his actual throne.

"So, besides you and your father, were there other underworld judges?" she asked, sitting down and making herself comfortable on the throne.

He gulped, knowing though it horrified him to think that he was blushing at the image of her sitting on his throne looking every inch like the queen he knew she was (and wanted her to be). "Yes...my father was actually Vegeta the third," he said with some nervousness, coming over to join her regardless. "Before him was his father and his grandfather. I am Vegeta the fourth."

"Wow." Bulma wiggled a little to give him room, only to shriek and giggle in surprise when he simply lifted her up and pulled her down with him onto his lap. "Haha! Three whole Vegetas before, but none of them as sweet as you!"

"Mmhmm." Vegeta ignored any commentary about him being sweet (he wasn't, _she_ was the sweet one, he thought he told her?) nuzzling her, hands sliding down over her hips to feel the softness there. Her vines gripped him back, around the legs and arms, he smiled against her shoulder before daring to venture down a little further with his touch.

Ah. Her vines gripped tighter around his wrist and pulled his hand away. A little disappointed she was still hesitant about letting him touch her more intimately, Vegeta sat back with her, content nonetheless to get to hold Bulma.

"Since your father can't boss you around anymore," Bulma asked, tracing her fingers along his bicep in an idle motion. "Did you go back to fighting with the shades to release tension?"

"Yes, besides the..." he stopped, sighing. "The last fight when my father halted the entire thing was with Kakarot...I had begun to lose control of myself."

She paused her little touches and Vegeta feared for a moment that she would run away. Proving his own anxieties wrong yet again, Bulma looked up at him with a small smile. "I see. It must be hard, containing all of that power."

Again he questioned the fates what he had done to deserve such a loving and understanding woman like her, Vegeta's heart melted at her sincerity and he could only numbly nod at her observation. "It can be...Whis and Beerus have actually been the trainers for judges since the beginning. Should I...lose control, they're able to bring me down."

"You're saying that like you're a rabid animal," Bulma scolded, "You're not. It's a lot of responsibility to put on anybody and you're doing well."

Strange, when she put it like that he almost believed her. He almost believed that she, indeed, wouldn't run away if she ever caught sight of his full power.

"Besides," she giggled, gesturing to the greater area around them. "We're gods, we don't always control ourselves, sometimes on purpose, sometimes by accident."

Looking up at her gesture, Vegeta felt his expression twist into a smile—another rare thing from anyone who knew the underworld judge.

While they were sitting and talking, Bulma's plants had creeped around the room filling the empty spaces with greenery of all varieties, even his throne itself bloomed with red flowers.

He pointed to the flowers and glanced at her, a question in his eyes.

She grinned, nodding. "Pomegranates."

It was beautiful and morbid at the same time. Life and death intertwined together...forever, he hoped.

"It looks much better in here," he said, his smile widening, his heart full. "I should come in here more often."


	8. The Exploration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta and Bulma return to their respective duties, Bulma learns a little more about her helpers and has a discussion with Whis about a gap in her relationship with Vegeta. The couple takes a break to spend some quality time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, Bee has posted art including Vegeta fighting with Goku in their monster forms and Vegeta killing his dad: https://twitter.com/amartbee/status/1365436486540292106?s=19
> 
> Second!
> 
> I'm going to state it outright now: the rating has been changed to explicit and there's sex in this chapter.
> 
> But like.
> 
> It's not sexy sex or meant to be so, because that's not really my writing style sorry dudes. This is more of an intimate sort of awkward "getting to know you" kind of thing, so there's plenty of Emotions and not a lot of sexiness. If you don't want to read through my attempts at believably writing sex, there will be a paragraph line break at the beginning and end of the scene. 
> 
> Or you can just skip the chapter entirely, you know, this is just more goopy "a couple very deeply in love" stuff with references to hoohas and dongers. 
> 
> And yes, all the notes about Bulma's anatomy are things depicted in Bee's art and things she laid out, it really does bloom like a flower.
> 
> Also should go without saying: **if you are under the age of 18 this content is not appropriate, do not proceed.**

Though it pained both of them to admit it, Vegeta had to get back to his duties of being the judge. They laid together in bed that awful morning (or evening) and spoke quietly about the topic, Bulma saying she would have to check in with her attendants as well. They parted with equal quietness, only kissing each other as she faded away in her cloud of petals back to the above ground.

It was...fine.

Bulma was fine.

She, at least, knew for certain where they stood with their feelings and were officially a couple. Vegeta opened up to her more about his past (though he still insisted that if she witnessed his full-powered form she would be disgusted) and she was happy about that.

It didn't stop her from missing him or from regretting that she continued to rebuff his hints towards wanting to be _more_ intimate, but she wasn't _unhappy_ with him.

"You stayed there a long time, Lady Bulma!" one of her dryads chirped as they all gathered around her with curious chattering and questions. "What was it like? Was Lord Hades cruel?"

Bulma chuckled, shaking her head—she forgot technically to the outside world her lover _His Eminence_ was commonly called "Hades." "Not at all, Vegeta is a very kind and loving man. He just needed the chance to express that." She paused, considering, regret weighing on her again. "He's so gentle with me..."

_And I keep turning him away even while knowing he would be gentle like always, but..._

They all looked over her with looks mixed between questioning and serious. Almost in unison, the dryads turned to their neighbor and nodded. They were content that their lady was happy and her explanation that the lord was indeed a kind man. However—"Lady Bulma, will you marry him?"

She choked, red blooming into her cheeks, thorns sprouting up from her shoulders automatically at the thought. It was a natural question to ask, of course, when two people become close _that_ way, but...part of her remembered the abject disgust he seemed to show at the idea.

Quickly reminded herself that it was because it had been so _soon_ after they met that it was brought up, not because...the thought itself disgusted him...

Bulma cleared her throat, delicately answering: "If he asks me, we can discuss it."

But only if, only then, not any time sooner, not something _she_ would bring up either. The experiment with placing another in her stead while she was in the underworld was still new, after all, Bulma had to make sure it _worked_ before abandoning her role to spend time in the underworld.

Speaking of that, Bulma excused herself from her throng of attendants and made her way to the giant tree in the center of the forest. The sound of music greeted her, the song of a lyre, the humming of a woman. Ah—and she knew exactly who...

"Hail, Sister," Bulma greeted Tights who was lounging on the bough above where a thin, lightly-tanned but _very_ melancholic-looking man was rested against the trunk, plucking away at his instrument. "Hail, Beets," she greeted the thin man.

Her sister, shimmering and golden as always with her beautiful hair and shiny skin, looked up with an equally bright smile. "Bulma!" she called back. "You're back? That's awfully soon, isn't it? Did His Eminence kick you out?"

"His Eminence doesn't often let people go, dearest," Beets quietly answered for Bulma, a sour note coming into his music at the statement.

Bulma winced, eyes casting to Beets' side to distract herself from the absolute awkwardness—yes, there she was. A godling sat besides the man, similar in the thinness but different in the darker brown tone her skin was cast with. The godling peeked up timidly at Bulma over her father's arm, raising a hand to wave.

"Hello, little sprout, Kale," Bulma said with a warm smile.

"H-hail, Lady Bulma!" Kale squeaked back, standing up immediately to bow. Her pink chiton was encircled by a simple dark green girdle, flowers dotted through her black hair and pinned it back in a ponytail. She was cute and very sweet, it seemed hard to believe that—if what Whis told her was true—Kale had the potential to become a goddess that presided over the seasons.

 _Seasons_ , Bulma thought, _what sort of seasons will there be besides spring?_ The weather turned chilly sometimes, yes, but the flowers never faded, the crops never died, especially not with—

"Now, Beets, when were you going to tell me that you were a harvest god?" Bulma interrupted her own thoughts with a teasing laugh, moving to sit next to Kale at the base of the tree. (Kale squirmed and blushed self-consciously in response.)

"Mm..." Beets laid his head back against the tree, looking up at Tights who smiled down at him radiantly. "It never came up, Lady Bulma. Not since..." He glanced at Kale. "Well, Kale was born, and her mother died."

So in his depression he neglected his duties. Before, Bulma would have likely scolded him, maybe punished such irresponsibility, yet...she felt oddly sympathetic, merciful now.

It helped, of course, her sister was right there and gave off an aura of serenity and happiness.

"I see, well...you have my gratitude for assisting me now. Even though it might be a little...unusual what circumstances I've come into."

"I-it's fine!" Kale piped up. "If it's for true love, it will be all right!"

Bulma choked, Tights snorted, Beets almost dropped his lyre.

A brief silence permeated the area until Bulma spoke again: "Thank you, Kale. I think you will become a wonderful goddess."

"There's others," Beets brought up, "I've been...taking care of a boy I found in my fields. I named him Broly."

"Ah, did you find him in a cabbage?" Bulma giggled.

"Nearly!" Tights supplied, finally dropping down to join the trio at the base. "He had seemed to be recently abandoned, Beets and I have been raising him, which I suppose I should tell our Mother about."

The sisters shared a smile at the thought of their mother while Bulma nodded. "Yes...she would be happy to have not just a granddaughter but a grandson, too."

She could imagine the delight of Lady Panchy—despite Kale not being Tights' daughter, the girl from Bulma's understanding had already been accepted wholeheartedly into her family. Their parents were always like that, loving and accepting.

_Perhaps, if it were possible for Vegeta and me..._

She cleared her throat, turned her head away to stop anyone seeing the blush that came to her cheeks. She really needed to get a grip on herself.

"I found some kids recently, too," Goku piped up. "A boy and a girl, the girl said their names were Cabba and Caulifla. I dunno if they're siblings, but they sure act like it, y'know?"

"Ah."

_...Wait a minute._

" _GOKU_!" Bulma shrieked, jumping up upon realizing that—again—Goku had somehow appeared and was eavesdropping on their conversation entirely. "Don't _do_ that!"

Whis seemed very pleased with himself and the whole situation when Bulma recounted the conversation later. "Now, _see_?" he said with a titter. "Didn't I tell you I had been working things out?"

"You're acting like you delivered these abandoned children directly to Beets and Goku," Bulma grumbled, suspiciously eyeing him as she poured the tea.

"Who, me?" Whis affected a look of surprise. "Don't be silly, my lady, I am _not_ a stork!"

He could have been telling the truth or not, either way nobody would ever know. Bulma sighed in resignation, knowing that she would have to accept the strange situation for what it was as it developed. She idly tapped against her cup, staring down into the surface of the herbal tea, considering something that had been on her mind for quite a while.

"...Whis...have you known any of Vegeta's...past lovers?"

Whis choked—a very new sound coming from the usually composed attendant. He didn't blush, however, she wasn't certain if he was capable of that, he only cleared his throat and stirred his tea. "I...am not at liberty to divulge my lord's past...consorts. Whether or not he's had any."

Damn. She was afraid he would say that. Bulma squirmed in discontent, looking down at her lap as though she would be able to find the solution to her troubles there. She tried to speak again many times yet couldn't find the words to properly express all of what she was thinking.

Whis seemed to understand what she was getting at regardless, huffing a perturbed sigh. "Lady Bulma, you don't need to tell him that you're inexperienced and I don't think he would judge you for such a thing regardless. With respect, many of us...already figured."

"Hard to have many intimacies when you can kill with a touch," she grumbled, defensive despite the assessment being true and any speculation being what she expected.

It didn't used to bother her before, she had seen mortals engaging in that carnal act and found it...bizarre. She knew gods indulged freely as well, obviously, but never felt the need for it herself. Too wrapped up in her duties and the limitations of her body to think about it, ever.

...Sort of...and yet...ever since Bulma had met the lord of the underworld she had thought of...so many obscene things...things she wasn't even sure _he_ would be game for if she brought it up. Then there was another aspect of her own body–frankly, Bulma's body was not the _same_ as mortal women or even other gods. While she could shapeshift like other gods, her true form had...aspects to it that were markedly different...what would...

"Talk to him about it," Whis firmly broke into her thoughts. "Lord Vegeta doesn't express his emotions very often, but I do believe he might feel undesirable to you with the...rebuffs."

That wasn't the sort of comfort she was looking for, but Bulma never expected _comfort_ from Whis. He wasn't the type to soften things with platitudes and wheedling, he only gave hard facts and blunt commentary. Still, it wrenched at her to hear that her own misgivings were hurting Vegeta.

"But I guarantee you, whatever _misgivings_ you have, he's deeply in love with you and it won't matter to him, Bulma."

Curse him, he had to pull out the _L word_ , didn't he?

" _Fine_ ," Bulma huffed, pushing her hands onto the tree stump table to stand up. "Whis, when you return to Vegeta, tell His Eminence that I'm requesting an audience with him for a very important conversation."

Whis chuckled, nonchalantly lifting his cup to take a sip. "Oh, I very much look forward to hearing about what this _conversation_ of yours entails later, my lady."

The disadvantage of living in the untamed wild became apparent to Bulma for the first time since beginning her duties: she could not "straighten up." She couldn't wear something very enticing and "set the mood" for...whatever.

She paced back and forth, adjusting her hair and the plants around her, different flowers began to spring up under her steps. She _must_ have been nervous, her roses were receding; small, almost shy blue blossoms had begun to grow in their place. _Forget-me-nots_ , Bulma thought with a grim irony.

It shouldn't have been such a big deal, she was only going to talk to Vegeta about their relationship going forward.

No big deal at all.

So much of not a big deal that when Vegeta arrived in a cloud of dark smoke, she didn't notice. It wasn't until he wrapped his arms around her waist to give her a hug that Bulma reacted with a yelp of surprise.

"It's only me, Bulma," she heard him say and turned to find him giving her a perplexed look. "Whis told me you had something important to discuss, well...here I am."

Bulma did not often get nervous, especially not in her own element, as the lady of floral abundance and springtime she was in control and always confident.

As Bulma, a woman in love with a man, she faltered.

Thus, with an anxious gulp against a very dry throat, Bulma stared deeply into his eyes with a determination that was entirely new to her.

Anyone who ever caught sight of the lord of the underworld would say his eyes were black pits, impassive, judgmental, horrifying. They were never like that for Bulma, they had that warmth they only held when he looked at her, warming her own heart and pushing out her breath in a sigh as she rested her forehead against his. "Vegeta, I...I wanted to talk to you about...something we—rather, _I_ —have been putting off."

"All right," he responded almost knowingly, lifting her into his arms to carry her over to the base of the tree where they usually sat together. "Then, we'll talk about it." He sat down on the soft bed of moss, cradling her gently with her back pressed against his chest. His hands drifted down to rest on her stomach, staying there as if to keep her warm and comfortable.

Naturally, as Bulma tended to when she was with Vegeta, her vines had begun to creep up around and encircle them—mostly the man himself—to bind in place.

She could have weeped at how considerate he was being, and yet here she was unable to get anything out properly. "I...Vegeta, have you...been with anybody before me?" The pit of her stomach dropped with anxiety. "I...intimately...I'm asking if you've had lovers before."

"Does it matter?" Vegeta's expression couldn't be seen but she could imagine he spoke this blunt answer with his usual straightforward expression.

Did it matter? Did it...? Bulma realized to her chagrin that tears were beginning to gather in her eyes, trying to blink them away. "No...I just..."

She couldn't spit it out. She couldn't admit such a shameful thing as being insecure about people that might or might not exist, about measuring up to a scenario that might have only existed in her head.

He seemed to understand what she was getting at as he huffed, resting his head on her shoulder, nuzzling her. "Was that why...? Believe me, you needn't compare yourself to anyone whatsoever, my foolish woman."

A mixture of shame and fluttery affection bloomed in her chest, bringing up a shudder from deep within her. Still, she protested: "But I _am_ different, regardless. My body is...not the same as a mortal woman or even a goddess."

"So?" Vegeta prompted, sounding confused. "We are gods, we're capable of changing forms as we please. What does it matter if your form is different than what's expected?"

Frustration and embarrassment had her pushing away from him to face her beloved, kneeling before him, staring stubbornly back.

What a pretty image the judge of the dead made with her vines curled around him loosely, gazing at her with an eyebrow raised in bemusement. "Bulma?" he prompted again. "Are you afraid?"

"Terrified," she answered, her expression grim.

He sat up, again resting his hands on her waist, casting his gaze from her eyes down her body and then back up again. Bulma didn't want to admit to herself how much it thrilled her being looked at in such a way, she feared her body might start beginning to show interest before she was ready.

"All right," Vegeta said with the tone of coming to a decision, releasing her to sit back. "Do you think you would feel more comfortable if you decided how we proceed?"

"What...do you mean?" Bulma chanced to ask.

He smirked, tilting his head sardonically. "I've felt your vines holding me down more than once to realize you have a desire to be in control. I can hardly blame you—this is your domain, after all, and if it's as new as you say to be intimate with another person, you might want to control what we do." He shifted again, holding out his hands to her in an open gesture of surrender. "So, I am at your mercy, my lady."

Oh, _that_ was what he meant.

* * *

Of all things Vegeta was expecting when being called up that morning, it was not the position he had been put into right at that moment.

He was terribly curious when Whis told him Bulma had something "very important" to talk about. Though the urge to consult his scrying pool to replay their conversation so he could be mentally prepared was tempting, Vegeta pushed himself to just trust Bulma and respect her privacy.

The truth of the matter was he had been nervous that she was calling him to conclude their relationship once and for all, perhaps she had reflected and changed her mind. Who would want to be with a monster that could eat souls and had killed his own father?

But, as usual, the fates had something else in mind for him.

Which was why he was now tied up‚ back against the tree with a complicated triangular loop down his chest, wrists tied together above his head, legs tied to the ground by the knees and ankles, spread apart.

"Is that uncomfortable?" she asked, worry evident and utterly endearing.

Despite being touched by her concern, Vegeta scoffed. "We're gods, Bulma, we don't feel discomfort at such little things."

"Tsk–well, excuse me for being worried about you, asshole!" she snipped back, her ferocity through her anxiety endearing as usual.

He watched Bulma with mild amusement as she crawled up to sit between his legs, hands resting cautiously on his thighs, staring in concentration like trying to figure out a complex puzzle. She was clearly nervous, not that he could blame her, he was too—but Vegeta remained outwardly stoic for the purpose of _not_ making things worse for Bulma.

Eventually, Bulma smoothed her hands up, stripping away the cloth that preserved his modesty. Her eyes made contact with his, a mischievous smile lit up her features.

"I like this image of you on your back, my lord," she teased.

Ah, of course she would take the opportunity to get back at him for his crack when they were last together. Despite part of him not wanting to reward her cheekiness, Vegeta couldn't resist smiling back. "Like I said, I am at your mercy, my lady."

He wanted her very much to have the confidence she usually had despite her inexperience, despite not knowing if _he_ would even be able to please her once he got his turn—and he thought of pleasing her _very_ often. While he would remain ambivalent about his actual experience for the purpose of Bulma not creating an invisible foe to compare herself to either way, the fact was he _very_ much wanted to please her.

(Concern that he wouldn't be able to measure up as well nagged at him.)

Bulma was examining him for a long time, enough to almost make Vegeta feel self-conscious. She reached out a cautious hand and stroked her fingers gently against his shaft, it twitched in response causing her to pull back her hand out of surprise. Vegeta couldn't help but huff out a laugh at her reaction, she reacted like it was a snake! "It won't _bite,_ Bulma," he snorted.

"I know..." Bulma mumbled, brow furrowed in deep thought. He wanted to chuckle at how cute she looked but was stopped by her moving up to cup his face in her hands and kiss him. She pressed her lips to his slowly, taking her time to move against him with a warmth and love in her exploration that stirred his arousal all the more. Vegeta felt her soft hands trailing from his jaw, down his neck, down his chest...

He heard the vines creak, realizing that he was straining against the hold to touch her back.

 _Calm down_ , Vegeta thought, forcing himself to relax even while heat rushed through his body pooling down into his lower stomach. He _needed_ to not force control from Bulma, he needed to allow her to explore to her satisfaction.

"– _Unh–_ " he gasped, head swimming at the feeling of her lips, pressing lightly against his chest like the tickle of flower petals.

Their eyes met, her cheeks flushed rosy, eyes half-lidded. "Is this good, Vegeta?" she asked, her petal-light touch flitting over the head of his shaft.

"Oh, yes," he growled, "There's no need to be shy, Bulma, touch me as you please."

Her eyes darkened to a shade of deep sapphire he had not seen from her before, a smirk pulled at her lips.

The look of desire made him shiver.

"Let me show you what I've been thinking, my Vegeta," she purred.

Bulma at least knew enough to blurt out that what Vegeta's...thing reminded her of would be a mood-killer. What sort of man wanted to hear that their prick looked like a _mushroom_?

 _Prick? Is that the right word? What else have I heard mortal men using, cock? I suppose I can use both,_ she thought, carefully running her thumb up and down the underside of the head of his cock. At his grunt, she increased the pressure of her ministrations, watching in fascination as a bead of white appeared at the tip. It looked like sap excreted by plants to her, something Bulma acknowledged would _definitely_ be a mood-killer to observe aloud.

She wouldn't pretend she didn't know what it was or that she _wasn't_ aiming to make her lover positively _explode_. Her smile turned into a full evil grin as she lowered her head to swipe her tongue across the tip of His Eminence's cock.

" _Ah!_ " he yelped, the creak of the vines could be heard again as he tried to push his hips up in vain.

"So sensitive, my king," Bulma laughed, internally cheering that at least whatever it was she was doing he enjoyed it. "I didn't imagine you would be sensitive, let's see how much it'll take before I have you calling me 'queen.'"

She wasn't sure why she confessed that part of her fantasy, especially when they were just getting started. Vegeta didn't seem bothered, however, as he pulled his head up to stare down at her questioningly. "You've...thought of that?" he panted. "You want to–?"

Bulma cut him off by carefully–though to him it would have seemed confidently–engulfing the tip with her mouth. She maintained eye contact with him as she deliberately pulled up a little before pushing down to fully take him to the back of her throat.

While Bulma had observed different reactions in the mortals she had witnessed engaging in this act before, she wasn't expecting Vegeta to scream out a loud curse of _"FUCK!"_ It surprised her so much she popped off of him, unable to contain her giggles.

"Vegeta! I don't think I've ever heard you say such vulgar things before!"

It was good, right? Surely that meant he was enjoying it, right? She certainly was, watching him unravel under her touch had her pressing her thighs together to suppress the feeling of wanting friction there. The more she saw of his panting, flushed face the wetter she grew, the more she wanted to push him to the edge just to _experience_ it for however long she could.

"...Not that I dislike it," she added, pinning him with a sultry gaze. "I want to make you scream some more before your turn, my king."

_I hardly care what nonsense I scream out or how much it happens, just keep doing_ that _,_ Vegeta wanted to say but couldn't muster up the strength to in his muddled brain. His bones felt soft and muscles useless as Bulma touched him, as she once again took his cock into her mouth. "Nnn...ah...f-fuck..." he panted, the wet warmth surrounding him firing off sparks of pleasure into his brain that threatened to take away his composure entirely.

Naturally, mortals were shameless, and some even died _during_ the act of sex, so he had seen his fair share. The experience of it, especially with the woman he loved, was markedly different.

He could see evidence of her own arousal even as she worked him over, the pink buds of her nipples beginning to peek out along with...thorns? He would have laughed if the sensation of Bulma brushing her hands over his balls didn't distract him so thoroughly. Thorns! Was that what she was so adamant about when she said her body was "different" from others? Why would that matter to him, she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"Hfff–if hearing vulgarities like _that_ surprises you _so_ much, my queen," Vegeta huskily growled to her, "Just you–ah–just you wait until I get _my_ turn."

Her eyes locked him in that dangerous, beautiful gaze again. Slowly, deliberately, _torturously_ he felt her tongue roam the underside of his cock as she bobbed her head. Somewhere in his wheezing he heard himself saying _please_ , flabbergasted that somehow he had been reduced to a blithering mess. It felt like the inside of his head was exploding, stars dancing against the backs of his eyelids as Vegeta screamed, straining against the vines with the sensation of climaxing.

" _Haaanh! My queen!"_

Panting breath.

Sweet relief.

...The sound of choking?

Vegeta's head shot up again to look at Bulma, surprised and dismayed when he saw her cupping her mouth and coughing. "A-are you all right, Bulma?" he gasped, wanting to reach out to comfort her but still bound. "I'm–I'm sorry, I should have told you–"

"It's–it's fine, silly," she choked out, waving him off. "It was just...umm...a lot, and I wasn't expecting it."

Concern and shock turned to flushed embarrassment, Vegeta shyly looked down unable to meet her eyes. "M...my apologies...I suppose I've been holding back for a while now."

To the tune of "since he was born" perhaps.

All right, he needed to get it together, don't kill the mood. When the vines released him, Vegeta straightened up, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. "I don't think I would mind if you choked _me_ a little next time," he mused, reaching over to pull her to him and kiss her, reveling in the poisoned honey that only she had.

"Mmm..." Her tongue playfully stroked across his bottom lip before she pulled back. "Promises, promises." Bulma's teeth worried her own bottom lip, looking at him with glittering but anxious eyes. "Did you...want to keep going? With your turn?"

"What an absurd question!" Vegeta scoffed, placing his hands on her waist to direct her to lean back against the mossy ground. A hum of pleasure came from him at the sight of her sprawled out, just like she was back in his chambers, except this time...this time he would get to indulge himself. "My queen..." He wanted to keep saying it, to keep calling her his queen while he could excuse it with being lost in the moment of exploring each other.

"Yes...?"

Now she looked nervous, that wouldn't do. Vegeta looked down at her stubbornly closed legs, raising an eyebrow. "I've wondered something since we met..." He placed his hands on her knees, smoothing them up to her thighs, marveling in her soft skin. His lips quirked up in a smile when he realized that he was picking up the scent of pomegranates. "Are you poisonous _here_ , too?"

Bulma blushed, shyly parting her thighs for him nonetheless. "M...maybe...but I'm telling you, Vegeta, I'm–"

"Shhhhh–" He moved his hands to the insides of her legs, gently stroking up to part her petals. "There's no need to fuss, just let me make you feel good."

 _Petals_ might have been an overly poetic descriptor for anybody else, something Vegeta would have scoffed at otherwise, with his beloved goddess of spring it turned out to be a very literal thing. _Is_ this _what she was so concerned with?_ he mused, running his thumb up the length of her folds, resting it on the bud at the top.

Their eyes met.

Vegeta smirked at her with what was most likely a wicked glint in his eyes before running his tongue up the path made by his thumb.

" _Hnnahh!_ " Bulma whimpered, eyes closing as she shivered, a flush coming to her cheeks.

The vines were back to creeping around his wrists, not binding him, just holding. Still, it was a good sign that whatever he had done was something she enjoyed. "Mmm–you _are_ poisonous here, too," he moaned appreciatively, circling her bud with his thumb.

In all of his wildest dreams, Vegeta had never imagined that a dangerous beauty like her existed–gorgeous but deadly, smart but naive, vulgar but shy.

And she was all his.

He wasn't usually _this_ lucky. Never _had_ been in his entire existence. Never did he imagine he would end up between the legs of such a perfect creature.

Ah but, he was getting lost in his own head when he should have been savoring the moment.

 _Hmm?_ Vegeta paused when he noticed she had begun to _bloom_ , her petals parting and changing color as they opened ever slightly more. He chuckled, "Oh, so _this_ is what you were hiding. Why would this bother me?" He ran his tongue up and down, pausing to suck on her bud gently, moaning with satisfaction.

"I don't–ah–I don't know–" Bulma threw her head back with a gasp, "Oh, gods!"

"If you're going to call for a god," she heard his voice darkly intone, "Call for _me_."

She whimpered, meeting his eyes where he waited with a hooded gaze that made her giddy. Bulma held her breath as he smirked, languidly closing his eyes and running his tongue around her bud. It had never gotten _this_ far in her experiments with herself; Bulma knew that her body changed, bloomed, when her emotions did. The way her bud began to _grow_ as her arousal and excitement did was something she had never witnessed, it began to protrude out like the stamen of a flower, red petals along with it.

"Well, well," Vegeta purred, hooking his arm under her leg to hoist it up over his shoulder. (Her vines joined them there to keep either of them from moving apart.) "Now isn't _this_ a lovely sight?"

"Nnn–hah–Vegeta...!" Pleasure and euphoria clouded into her brain, pushing out all thoughts of self-consciousness at how he eagerly ran his tongue along the base of her clit; sparks danced before her eyes, almost darkening her vision as she felt him close his mouth over the still-growing bud. _It doesn't bother him?_ her anxious thoughts tried to nag. _But it's so_ strange _, women don't have_ stamens _for–_

She jerked, her first climax hitting her like a shot, Bulma screamed out her lover's name as her hands gripped his hair to hold him against her.

"Mmm...I'm getting spoiled by this sweet nectar," Vegeta said, shifting to hoist up her other leg. "But I'm not finished yet."

* * *

However long it took until they were satisfied, neither of them could tell as the time passed. When they were finished, the couple lazily dozed together in each other's arms, swaying gently on a hammock made from a large leaf. After a contented sigh from Bulma, she found her voice again: "Was that...good, Vegeta? We didn't even..."

He didn't put his cock in her, that was what she was trying to say. Wasn't that what "completed" the whole thing? It seemed that way for mortals.

Vegeta cracked an eye open to stare down at her lying on his chest. "Hmm? We didn't what? Are you trying to say penetration?"

"As unnerving as I find your ability to read my intentions, yes," she chuffed out a laugh.

He shrugged, closing his eyes again. "Some other time, I was content getting to explore you." When she didn't answer, he raised his head up to look at her. "Bulma. I'm being serious, it's fine. We have eternity together, don't we?"

Her heart fluttered at the mention of eternity–he really wanted to be with her for that long? "I liked exploring you, too..."

"I'm surprised you didn't find me dull," he laughed, laying back again with the lazy grace of a large feline. "I don't have nearly as many interesting traits as you. Nothing about my anatomy is as _pretty_ as yours, either, let alone so colorful!"

Colorful, interesting, or pretty were not things she had ever expected to have as descriptions of her, let alone spoken without any hint of the empty flattery anybody who previously tried to woo her had. "Weren't you the one who said we're gods?" Bulma retorted, snuggling closer to him. "We can change our shape as we please. I could penetrate _you_ if I wanted."

"Promise?" Vegeta teased, surprising her into giggling all the more. She felt him lean down and press a kiss to the top of her head. "You were fantastic. Simply the best. I wouldn't have it any other way, my Bulma."

Her heart pounded, fingers pressing in an almost possessive grip against his chest. Oh, who was she kidding? As far as Bulma was concerned, this man was _hers_ and she was his. She wouldn't have it any other way. "Vegeta..."

"And if you're still comparing yourself to this phantom line of lovers I apparently have," he interjected, "You're the best by far."

"Oh, I've decided that if any previous lovers of yours come back around, I'll kill them," she airily responded.

Mortals would probably find such a sentiment distressing, given that they were gods they had no such qualms. Vegeta gave a light groan in response, breathing in and sighing. "By the fates...if you keep talking like that you're going to get me worked up again, Bulma."

"Mm, don't threaten me with a good time, my king." Bulma moved up to kiss him on the jaw before settling into the crook of his neck to sleep. "I love you..."

"And I, you, my queen."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaanyway sorry that took so long. Happy March!
> 
> Closing notes:  
> 1\. The inclusion of Kale, Beets, and the other Saiyans as attendants for the seasons is, yes, purely because of their namesakes corresponding to particular season harvests  
> 2\. This was also discussed with writer pal jung_anders and inspired by them  
> 3\. I just thought the idea of Caulifla and Cabba being actual siblings and being raised by Goku was cute, Gohan gets to have older siblings.  
> 4\. Now you know it's called "The Spring IN Hades" because Bulma can and will peg Vegeta. Okay. Okay. Bye.


End file.
